


Still Deep In Us

by graceling_in_a_suit



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Falling In Love, M/M, Magic, Mentions of Death, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Apocalypse, did i mention mermaids?, discussions of slavery and selling sentient beings, mentions of grief, mermaid louis, there's a lot of waves and water in this one folks so if you don't like those things then im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 08:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 41,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18825223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graceling_in_a_suit/pseuds/graceling_in_a_suit
Summary: “Did you take the harpoon out?” Harry asked urgently. He ripped off his shirt, not bothering to listen to Perrie’s stumbled apology. “Nevermind, it’s too late now. We have to get it back in the water.”He held his shirt to the wound, pressing and pressing and hoping. Its skin looked sickly pale, and the blood beneath his hands was thin and blue.It was a fucking mermaid, and it was dying, and they were just standing there and arguing and letting it happen.AU. The village Harry has called home his entire life sits on six shaky legs, held aloft from the ocean which claimed the entire world twenty years ago. Harry's just a grieving tinkerer trying to do his best, and Louis is a mermaid that ruins The Village's delicate balance of power (and perhaps, just maybe, wins the heart of a boy).





	1. If I Speak To You of Days Upon the Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first ever Big Bang! Exciting. I hope you like it as much as I do. 
> 
> Also, a big Happy Birthday to my wonderful artist [Nicola!](https://missytearex.tumblr.com/) I'm so honoured to have gotten to work with her. You might be reading this long after her birthday, but I'd appreciate it if you took a second to send her some love through the universe anyway. 
> 
> Title comes from Zayn's _Flight of the Stars_. Playlist can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/hwq13hwpkz8q8cviwqas88xcr/playlist/08icdzeWNxR22CYLPfFttC?si=Pbv1o7cjT-q4rHbj0XZr3w).

  


 

Harry whistled as he lowered himself down, shoulders working and muscles straining to keep the platform from plummeting into the waves below. The wind mostly swallowed his whistling, and the nearest ears were in the Village far above. 

No one to hear his off-tune rendition of  _ All Shook Up.  _ Probably for the best, Harry thought as he lowered the platform a final few metres. The ocean whipped below him, waves particularly angry today. Harry wouldn't be here for long enough to upset them, he was sure. 

He got to work taking measurements of the support column closest to him, eyeing the other five critically. They looked to be about the same dimensions still—not too much wear—so any patch Harry made for the erosion on this one should work for all of them. That was good; the Village had been feeling a little unsteady as of late. 

In more ways than one. 

Harry was just packing up his measuring tape when he saw a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. He turned to it immediately; if there was a shark around, he'd have to get the beacon flashing to warn the fishing crew when they brought their haul back in a couple hours. 

But there was no sign of anything. Harry squinted at the waves doubtfully. He could've sworn he'd seen a flash of fin, but. Nothing. Probably just the glint of the sun peaking out from the clouds. 

He started whistling again as he began to haul the platform back up. They used to have a mechanism for this, but its gears had rusted away from exposure to the elements and they had more important gadgets to fix with the few spare parts they'd managed to barter from passing scavengers. 

He was sure the Island had a few gears to spare, but the Village had enough trouble convincing them to keep up their years-standing trade of fish for fresh produce and soil, let alone anything else. 

Harry's arms were burning by the time he pulled the platform back into the ledge where it lived, and he took a second to lean against the entrance and catch his breath. He’d lived with this view almost all his life, and he still wasn't used to it. The stretch of the ocean, uninterrupted for as far as anyone had ever gone, except for a few small islands scattered across the globe. Some people survived on huge boats, ever moving, never standing still. Others had settled down in structures held aloft from the waves, as Harry's parents had done twenty years ago when they'd built the Village.

Thinking about his parents whilst standing in this spot and staring wistfully at the horizon was something Harry had had more than enough of. Six months since they’d left on a mission to negotiate trade with a vessel they’d managed to catch on their long range scanner, and everyone on the Village except Harry had accepted that they just weren’t coming back.  
  
But Harry had no time to grieve, so. Perhaps that was why he hadn't tried to. 

He reached into the pocket of his beat-up jeans and pulled out his compass. The scratched glass stared up at him, daring him. He closed his eyes against the memories—Robin, kneeling down with a smile as he handed him th compass, a small piece of civilisation he’d managed to save; Anne, ten years later, frowning as she caught sight of it abandoned on his desk, asking if he knew when it had stopped working.

When he opened his eyes again, the ocean was still there. Of course it was; it wasn’t going anywhere. It had claimed planet earth for itself, and the few hangers-on just had to accept that. 

The wind rustled his hair as he stood, and he shivered. 

Time to go inside. 

He dropped the measuring tape in the toolroom on his way to the aquarium. Niall was sure to be in there, strumming on his guitar. It was exactly what Harry needed right then: a calm distraction, something that didn’t ask too much of him. 

The Village had other ideas.

“Oh, Harry! Village meeting in the Iron Room in five!”    
  
Harry turned as Ben hurried past him. Harry tried his best to smile politely, nod his head. Ben just roughly patted him on the shoulder, then sped away, calling out the news as he went. 

Harry closed his eyes and sighed. 

The Iron Room was filling up with people as he made his way in, floors creaking a little like they did when meetings happened. Harry used to worry about that noise, when he was just a boy accustomed to dry land, but he’d been here so long he barely noticed it anymore. They all had. 

The Iron Room was the only room in the Village made completely of metal, rather than a combination of other scavenged materials. It was the centre of the village, where all the meetings happened, and the gathering point should the Village ever be in danger of collapse. They’d only evacuated here once, five years ago when a fierce storm whipped up waves as high as the village itself.    
  
Harry had had his parents to comfort him, then. 

He sighed and leaned back against the wall at the back of the room, eyes lidded as he took in all of his family. 

Sixty-two people in total, and every one of them he knew as well as he knew his own hand. 

Ben squirreled his way to the front of the room and cleared his throat, silencing the chatter.

“Hello, everybody! How are we doing?”   
  
There was a few grunts, a couple shouted ‘fine!’s, and Harry had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. 

“Good! Good.” Ben smiled, teeth sharp in the dim light from the solar-powered overhead. There were no windows in the Iron Room; it gave the illusion of night-time, despite being midday. “I’m sure you can all guess why I called this meeting.”

“It’s an intervention for your sweaty feet!” Niall called. Harry snorted despite himself, scanning the crowd to try and find him. 

Ben’s smile got sharper for a second, then he laughed good-naturedly along with the rest of the room.  

“Not quite, Niall. I actually thought it was time we discussed the topic of  _ leadership.” _

Harry straightened. Ben found his eyes in the audience, his eyebrow pinching for a moment. 

“As sad as it is, today marks the six month anniversary of the loss of Anne and Robin.” He bowed his head, and Harry wanted to push through to the front, to scream,  _ they’re not dead!  _ But…

Maybe everyone else was right, and that wasn’t true. 

So he just swallowed his anger and watched on. 

Ben’s expression was sombre, and Harry had to admit that as much as he’d never quite managed to get along with the guy, his parents  _ had  _ trusted him as their second in command. Harry shouldn’t be so quick to judge; he probably missed them as much as Harry did. 

“Now, as their second, I think it’s only fair I assume the role of leader,” he said, smooth as could be. 

Harry’s chest felt heavier just hearing that, even though he didn’t exactly have a counterargument. It wasn’t like he knew anything about running the Village. It wasn’t like his parents had ever thought that he should. 

Niall found his eyes in the crowd, then turned back to Ben with a frown on his face. 

“What about Harry?”

Ben’s jaw clenched, then he smiled. “Great question, Niall! I'm sure Harry can answer for himself if he feels ready to lead?” He turned his smile on Harry, still hunched on himself at the back of the room.

Everyone else's eyes followed his gaze, watching him expectantly. 

The Iron Room should have plummeted to the ocean by now, with as heavy as Harry felt trying to answer that question. 

He opened his mouth to speak, when a hand landed on his shoulder. 

“Why don't we put it to a vote?”

Harry looked at Liam over his shoulder, saw the way his nostril flared despite the seeming calmness of his expression.    
  
He was at once immensely grateful and immensely  _ un _ grateful. If the Village was to decide their leader, that would surely mean an end to the unsteadiness everyone had been feeling as of late. But if they chose Harry, then…

Well, he’d have to lead, wouldn’t he. 

Ben opened his mouth to retort, but Niall was faster. He stepped forwards to face the crowd. 

“Great idea, Liam! Why don’t we take a week to think about it, then vote for whoever we think best suited, huh?” He flashed a grin over his shoulder at Ben, who smiled thinly. 

There was a collective mutter of agreement—a few noncommittal shrugs, some nodding—and then people started filing from the room. 

Harry hung at the back wall, smiling and waving at people as they went passed. Ben lingered for a moment at the door, searching his face.    
  
Harry expected him to say something, though he wasn’t sure what; but Ben simply turned, and left. 

Harry thunked his head against the wall behind him and groaned. The only other two inhabitants of the room—Niall and Liam—laughed. 

“Oh, thank you, Niall, for doing me that favour!” Niall said, voice high pitched and teasing.    
  
Harry opened an eye to glare at him. 

Niall clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ve got a week to wrap your head around to being in charge, Harry. I suggest you get cracking.”    
  
With that charming piece of wisdom imparted, the made for the door. 

Harry shared a look with Liam, then sighed. “Thanks, Niall.”

Niall waved him off without turning. Then, he was gone.

“Hey, how did the measuring go this morning?” Liam asked into the sudden silence of the room. It was a poor distraction tactic, but Harry appreciated it. 

“Yeah, went alright. C’mon, I’ll show you the patch I’m working on,” Harry said, pushing off from the door. He was keen to get out of the Iron Room, and the comforting safety of his workshop was as good a place as any.  
  
There was no way to avoid feeling trapped, when you lived on a tiny structure in the middle of the ocean with 61 other people. Harry didn’t know how to live any other way, but he could imagine how peaceful it would be, to be the only person for miles. 

But then, well. He’d miss his friends. 

 

***  


  
  
It only took Harry til the next day to finish his patch for the column. After breakfast, he dragged Zayn into his workshop to get a second opinion on its structural integrity (as good as could be expected from a repurposed piece of corrugated iron), then he was down below again, whistling to himself as he hammered it in place. 

All six columns were a mess of built-up metal and rust. Harry hadn’t been able to see the original structure beneath for years now. 

One of these days, the patching was going to stop working. He didn’t really like to think about that. 

He was almost finished thumping the final nail in place when he heard a splash. That wasn’t that unusual; the ocean was, generally speaking, a splashy place. Still, Harry paused. He craned his neck around the column, eyes scanning the water. Perhaps it was the invisible shark from yesterday, back again to make him question his sanity. 

There was nothing there, of course. 

But then, he saw a glint of light hit a fin as it broke the water. It wasn’t the smooth grey tail of a shark or a dolphin, but something bright, scaled. Much too large for any fish that dared swim this close to the surface, and yet. Harry rested his weight against the pole, peering around with his whole body. The shadow cast by the village above made it almost impossible to see between the columns. The platform below him creaked as he shifted, and the metal beneath his fingers groaned, and he caught a glimpse of something for just a moment, something that looked like  _ eyes _ –  
  
He stumbled backwards, landing on his arse on the platform, hand to his heart. The platform swung a little from the sudden movement, and he twisted to grab hold of the rope above him, lest the platform snap free. He heard something fall from his pocket, and he whipped his head down just in time to see his compass hit the wood, bounce once, and slip into the sea with a soft  _ plop.  _

Harry grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t let go of the rope now, else he lose his way back up, and what would he do about it anyway, dive after it?   
  
The ocean claimed what it wanted. It likely had his parents already, and now it had his compass.

He started to pull himself back up, hoping the burning of his muscles would distract him from the pain in his heart. He didn’t finish nailing in the patch—it was secure enough as it was—and he certainly didn’t look back.

If he had of, he might have seen two blue eyes watching him go. 

 

***

  
  
Harry was in his workshop when Sarah found him. 

She knocked on his door, and he didn’t look up from the piece of plastic pipe he was repairing. “Come in.”

Sarah muttered to herself as she stepped around the bits of junk Harry had left around (the desk was already full, in his defence). “Here, Harry, I brought you some biscuits. We haven’t seen you in the kitchen all day.”

Harry sighed. Sarah was a lovely woman, and she ran her kitchen well, but sometimes she could be a little overbearing. “I ate some fruit from the garden,” he evaded. 

She placed the plate of biscuits down on his desk, somehow managing to convey disbelief. 

“What are you tinkering with today?” she asked, leaning over his shoulder to peer at the pipe. 

Harry leant back so she could see, and mumbled out his answer around one of the biscuits. “Pipe from the irrigation system. Noticed it’d popped a leak this morning.”

Sarah looked out the open door to the garden, eyeing the blooming shrubs and bushes, and the three small fruit trees they’d somehow convinced to grow on a foot and a half of soil on top of the wooden roof of the Village. Harry took a lot of pride in tending to the garden, as did they all. It was their main claim to independence; before they’d managed to barter seeds from the island, they’d relied on them completely for fruit and vegetables. Nobody could survive on fish alone. 

Sarah made a sad noise, and Harry followed her gaze to the pumpkin patch. “They look a little sad, don’t they?”

Harry rubbed his eye. “Yeah, they’ve been catching most of the wind lately. I’m hoping it’ll change direction soon, otherwise I’ll have to rig something up.”   
  
He eyed his workshop critically. He could make something work in a pinch, especially if he managed to cannibalize a part of the Village no one would miss. Did they really need three dining tables?

Sarah patted him on the shoulder, then pushed the biscuits towards him. “I’m sure you’ll think of something, Harry. That’s why I’m voting for you."

Harry glared at the biscuits for a moment, then smoothed out the features on his face before he looked up at her. “You don’t need to do that Sarah. Vote for who you think will lead better, not whoever’s your favourite.”

Sarah shook her head fondly. “I’m already going to, you silly goose.”

Harry smiled at her, and the smile lasted until she left. 

 

***  


  
Harry didn’t get much sleep that night. That wasn’t a rare occurrence as of late. For the past six months, really, ever since he’d lost the soothing soundtrack of his parent’s snores from the other bed. It was unfortunate, because Harry rather fucking  _ liked  _ sleep. And yet, sleep didn’t much like him these days.  

But that night, it worked in his favour. He was awake enough to hear the fishing crew come back—a few hours overdue, but that in itself wasn’t cause for alarm.  
  
The commotion they brought in their wake definitely was. 

Harry glared at the ceiling for a moment, listening to the stumbling and the harsh whispers. If there hadn’t been such a frantic edge to them, he might not have bothered to pull himself out of bed.    
  
When Harry pulled open the door—doors! They didn’t need doors, he could scavenge those —he was met with a darkened hallway. He squinted down towards the entrance, and saw four darkened shapes. There was a fifth shape on the ground, all of the wrong dimensions for it to be their haul, and the four shapes over it looked to be arguing. 

Harry made his way towards them just as a sixth shape joined them. He paused, listening. 

He recognised Liam’s voice first.  
  
“We found it about fifty metres from the columns.”    
  
Then, Perrie spoke up. “I harpooned it, I thought it was a shark–”

“A  _ shark _ ? This is much better than a shark.” That was definitely Ben’s voice.

“It’s hurt, don’t you think we should do something?” 

“Yes, yes, we wouldn’t want it dying before we can trade it. It’s worth more to us alive.”   
  
“I don’t think… Maybe someone should get Harry–”

Harry walked forward with determination. Their heads whipped up towards him—Adam, Perrie, Liam, Jesy, and Ben. The fishing crew looked guilty, but Ben looked angry. 

“What is it?” Harry demanded, trying to look behind Liam and Jesy to the shape on the floor.

Liam looked around, then winced. “We don’t know.”   
  
Ben’s lips pursed. “Of course we know what it is, Liam, for fucks sake.”  
  
“I don’t want to make any assumptions,” Liam bit out, jaw clenched. 

Harry had had enough. He pushed passed him and knelt on the ground. The low light of the moon shone in from the open doorway, and Harry wasn’t sure if it was blood in his ears or the sound of the ocean that drowned out the arguing above him as he took in the creature. 

It definitely wasn’t a shark.

It was… a man. With the tail of a fish, brightly coloured scales glinting in the moonlight. It’s tail melted into skin at its waist, and its chest was just barely rising and falling. Harry couldn’t make out the features of its face, but that wasn’t nearly as important as the  _ blood.  _

So much of it, covering its abdomen, oozing from a deep wound above its right hip.    
  
“Did you take the harpoon out?” Harry asked urgently. He ripped off his shirt, not bothering to listen to Perrie’s stumbled apology. “Nevermind, it’s too late now. We have to get it back in the water.”   
  
He held his shirt to the wound, pressing and pressing and hoping. Its skin looked sickly pale, and the blood beneath his hands was thin and blue. 

It was a fucking mermaid, and it was dying, and they were just standing there and arguing and letting it happen. 

“Come on, Harry, don’t be an idiot.” Ben crouched in front of him, eyes scanning the creature calculatingly. “Think how many parts for your little tinkering we can get for it. We’re not letting this back in the ocean.”

Harry’s brow pinched. “Yeah, and it’d  _ die  _ if we did.”   
  
Ben nodded. “Yes, that too.”

Harry clenched his teeth, and then the creature made a soft wheezing noise. Harry looked down at its tail, the drying scales, the blood leaking into the floor. 

“Liam, Perrie, help me lift it. Jesy, Adam, get its tail. Be gentle,” Harry ordered, still keeping pressure on the wound. “Ben, get Zayn. Make sure he brings the first aid kit.”   
  
Ben looked like he was going to argue for a second, and then his protest was swallowed by the fishing crew jumping into movement to carry out Harry’s request. Liam and Perrie took a side each, lifting the creature by its shoulders and chest. Adam took the top half of the tail, and Jesy held it’s fin carefully. 

“Good, alright,” Harry said, once everyone had a stable grip. He didn’t spare Ben a glance as he slinked away towards Zayn’s room, too busy coordinating everyone’s movement. “Slowly does it.”

“Where are we going?” Liam asked, eyes shifting between the hallway and his feet.    
  
Harry bit his lip. “I don’t know, um. The aquarium?”   
  
Jesy snorted. “Fuck all our other fish, huh?”   
  
“It’s not a fish,” Harry retorted, then he had to focus for a second on keeping his hand steady. The creature’s breaths were still shallow, but at least it was breathing. “It’s got...lungs, and stuff.”   
  
“And stuff,” Adam muttered. “Harry, its a fucking mermaid. We found a mermaid.”   
  
“You nearly  _ killed  _ a mermaid,” Harry bit back, then took a deep breath. Snapping wasn’t going to help anybody, least of all the… creature. 

Rounding the corner into the aquarium and navigating the doorway proved to be a challenge, but soon enough Harry was lifting up the top off their biggest tank and the creature was placed inside. The couple of other fish in the big tank swam around in confusion, one even daring to swim close to the creature, then away again. 

“Liam, can you put the blennys and the gernard in with the eel?” Harry asked distractedly, watching as two sets of five gills appeared on the mermaid's chest, fluttering as they took in the water. Hopefully it could breathe in the tank, Harry wasn’t sure when Niall had last cleaned it.  
  
Liam and Perrie worked together to move the fish across the room and into the other tank. With any luck their morey wouldn't try to take a bite out of them. Once that was done, Harry pushed himself out of his pyjama bottoms and whipped off his shirt, thankful he’d worn pants when he went to bed. 

“Um, Harry,” Adam said, taking a step forwards. Harry ignored him and hoisted himself into the tank. 

Before any of the fishing crew could react, Zayn burst through the door, Ben hot on his heels.    
  
“I’m here!” he panted, stumbling towards Harry with the first aid kit thrust forwards. He paused halfway into the room to stare at the still-unconscious creature in the tank with wide eyes. 

Harry leant his top half out of the tank and made a grab for the first aid kit, liberating it from Zayn’s frozen grip. 

“What–What the fuck–” Zayn stuttered out. “Is that a fucking  __ mermaid?”  
  
Liam patted him on the shoulder, and Perrie started retelling the story. Harry tuned them out, balancing the kit on the lip of the tank as he searched for a suture needle. Really, it should be Zayn doing this, but… Harry could sew, and time was of the essence, and really how hard could it be?   
  
Harry took a deep breath once he’d got the needle threaded and sanitised, trying to centre himself. Then, he knelt in the tank, one knee on either side of the mermaid—merman?— __ creature’s  tail. His eyes burned in the salt water of the tank, but he had about a minute to get this done before he ran out of air, so he sucked it up. 

The harpoon hadn’t gone all the way through the creature, luckily; it looked like it had penetrated his abdomen, and the creature had torn itself free. It was a mess of tissue, but the water had helped clean away most of the blood, so Harry could see what he was doing. He sent a quick prayer to a god he wasn’t sure he believed in, then pierced the creatures skin with the needle. Thankfully, it stayed unconscious. He made quick work of the stitches, holding the wound together with one hand. It wasn’t the neatest stitching he’d ever done, but his lungs were burning and his hands were shaking and he was sewing up a fucking  _ mermaid  _ so he couldn’t exactly be blamed. 

The second he’d tied off the last stitch, he pulled himself up and took in a deep gulp of air. He spent a precious few moments filling and emptying his lungs, then he studied his work. Through the movement of the water, it didn’t look too bad. He started to rifle through the first aid kit for some gauze, then a hand landed atop his own, stilling his movements. 

“Here,” Zayn said, voice steady. He handed Harry a roll of gauze, yellowed and fraying. It should still do the trick, as long as the creature didn’t pick at it. 

If it made it through the night, that was. 

“Wrap it tightly, yeah?”   
  
Harry nodded, then dove back down. He lifted the creature up a little so he could wrap the gauze around its stomach, but still it did not stir. 

Harry hoped that meant it was busy healing itself, and not that it was. Well. Half-dead. 

He used a rusty safety pin to secure the end when he was done, then laid the creature back down gently. He stood and held on to the side of the tank as he looked at it: the soft brown waves of its short hair, the fluttering of its gills, the way its skin slowly melted into small, pointed scales. 

It was beautiful. And terrifying.    
  
“Should we get him a pillow?” Harry asked, somewhat deliriously. 

He looked up when Liam started laughing, and Perrie joined in after a moment. Harry was much too caught up in his thoughts to laugh along. 

“Here, let me help you out,” Zayn said, offering Harry a hand. Harry noticed he’d packed away the first aid kit while he was bandaging the merman, and he took his hand gratefully. 

He started shivering the second his feet touched the wooden floor. He looked around the room in confusion.    
  
“Where did Ben go?”    
  
Adam pushed off from the wall and threw his pyjamas at him. Harry caught them gracelessly and pulled them on despite his wet body, noting the silence in the room at his question. 

“Right, well,” he said, once he’d righted himself. “I’m sure you lot have some fish to pack away, unless that was your whole haul,” he pointed behind himself. 

Jesy rolled her eyes and made for the door. “Excuse us for getting distracted by a mermaid.”   
  
Adam and Perrie followed her, but Liam hung back for a moment. 

“You’re gonna look after ‘im, right,” he asked in a hushed whisper. He looked at the creature in the tank sadly, then at the door. 

Harry leant his head towards him. “Liam. Where did Ben go.”

Liam shook his head. “I don’t know, Harry. But I didn’t like the way he was talking about it–him.”

Harry followed Liam’s gaze over his shoulder, lips pinched. “Me neither.”

He shivered again, his shirt clinging uncomfortably, and Liam pulled his jacket off. He put it around Harry’s shaking shoulders, waving off his protests. 

“I’ll be back once we pack away the haul,” he said, turning for the door.    
  
Harry shook his head. “Liam, I’ll be fine. Get some sleep.”

Liam frowned then nodded reluctantly. 

He closed the door after him, and Harry settled on the ground in front of the tank. 

He watched the creature for a moment, then he looked beyond the creature. The aquarium was one of the only rooms on the village that was open to the ocean; Niall liked to say it was less cruel to their fish, to let them have a nice view of their home. Normally, it meant that the room was freezing cold. Today, it also meant that Harry could stare out at the moonlit waves and try to make sense of the evidence right in front of his eyes.  
  
Mermaids were real, and they had one. 

If… if it didn’t die. 

 

***  
  


When Harry swam back up to consciousness, it was to the charming revelation that he’d managed to fall asleep on the hard floorboards. His back ached, and his neck twinged, and he vaguely needed to pee. 

He blinked his eyes open, making a small noise of discontent at the bright sun. He rubbed at the sleep in his eyes grouchily, then yawned. 

Then, he turned his neck to the side, and choked. 

Two blue eyes were staring at him from behind a soft fringe of brown hair, highlighted with gold in the sunlight. The merman was lying in the tank right next to Harry, their faces separated by about a foot and a pane of glass. 

It blinked at him, then tilted its head. Harry raised himself onto an elbow, scanning its face for signs of pain.    
  
It blinked again. It had really long eyelashes. 

And an elegant neck. 

And a massive fucking wound in its stomach.    
  
Harry leant closer to the glass as he stared at the gauze, trying to see if there was any blood leaking through, but the creature spooked at the movement. It pressed itself into the other side of the tank, back flat against the glass and eyes stormy. 

Harry sat up carefully, then raised his hands. 

“Hey, I’m sorry, it’s okay,” he rumbled out, voice murky from sleep.  
  
It frowned at him, watching his lips. 

“I’m sorry my friends hurt you.” Harry licked his lips, and the creature looked back up at his eyes. “Can you understand me?”   
  
Harry had no reason to think it would, other than how human it looked now it was awake. While it had been unconscious, it had been so much easier to focus on the tail, the mythological aspects of it. But now that Harry could see its eyes, watch it make expressions on its lovely delicate face, well. 

It was hard not to think of it—of  _ him— _ like a person. 

Harry put his hands back in his lap slowly, trying to breathe through the revelation of his gaze. His eyes tracked the movement, then he raised one of his hands (webbed fingers, sharp nails) to his stomach. Harry swallowed down his instinctual reaction to tell him not to touch, to reach in the tank and grab him hand lest he hurt himself, but the merman simply pressed his palm to the gauze above the wound, then looked at Harry questioningly. 

Harry smiled. “Yeah, I did that. Does it feel too tight?”   
  
He blinked a few times, then looked back down at the gauze, either ignoring Harry’s question or, more likely, not understanding a word he’d said. 

Harry opened his mouth to ask something else, foolishly, when a knock sounded at the door. 

The creature pressed itself back into the wall of the tank again, looking wildly between Harry and the door. 

Harry tried to smile reassuringly, then pushed himself to his feet. 

His back begrudged the movement, but he ignored the twinge as he pulled the door open a little. He stood between the opening and the hallway, lest his visitor be someone he couldn’t trust. 

Not that there was anyone in the village that he couldn’t trust, of course. They were all his family, it was just…

Somewhere in between watching him bleed out and looking into his eyes, Harry had become quite protective of the merman. 

He needn’t have worried; on the other side of the door stood Zayn and Liam.

“We brought breakfast,” Zayn said, lifting a bowl full of stew in his hands.

Next to him, Liam was holding a plate packed full of seafood. Harry raised his eyebrows, but stepped aside for them to come in. 

“Oh, fuck,” Liam cursed, jumping a little when he caught sight of the merman sitting up and watching them enter. “He’s awake.”

Harry snorted, then grabbed the bowl of stew. He shoved the door closed behind Zayn with his shoulder, already shoveling a spoonful into his mouth. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was until he’d smelled food. 

Zayn cleared his throat, then waved at the merman. The creature tilted his head, then he raised a hand slowly to wave back. 

“Holy shit.”    
  
Harry nodded in wide-eyed agreement. He almost forgot to swallow his mouthful, then choked a little. The creature’s eyes snapped to him, then crinkled around the edges. 

“Hey, uh, bro,” Liam said, approaching slowly. “Glad you didn’t die.”

The merman flicked his gaze over to Liam, then narrowed his eyes. Liam turned to whisper to Harry, “Do you think he remembers me?”    


A soft growl came from the tank, growing in volume as Liam yelped and hid behind Harry. 

Harry frowned at the creature, took in the aggressive set to his shoulders. “I think it’s pretty likely, yeah,” he offered back. “Maybe you should go.”

Liam handed his plate of seafood off to Zayn and escaped without another word. The second the door closed, the growling stopped.    
  
Harry relaxed his shoulders. “Is that for him?” he asked around another mouthful, waving to the plate. 

“Yeah, we weren’t really sure what he’d like,” Zayn said, frowning at it. There was seaweed and half a raw bass, some anchovies, some clams, some prawns. 

Harry had to admit, they’d thought this out further than he had. 

“Do you think it’s safe for him to eat, though?” he worried, spoon hanging halfway to his mouth.

Zayn’s mouth pinched a little at the corners, and he sent a sidelong glance at the creature. Harry followed his eyes and saw him still sitting there, not any less real than he’d been a moment ago, and staring at them. 

“That’s a good point, H.” Zayn moved to the table in the corner to put his plate down, then pulled the first aid kit he’d left last night towards him. “I should change the gauze and see how he’s healing.”   


Harry remembered his stew finally, finishing his mouthful. “As long as you don’t judge me for how shit my stitches are,” he tried to joke.  
  
Zayn just sent him a dry look as he sanitised his hands. He walked towards the tank, and Harry plonked his bowl down to follow. 

“Do you think it’s bad for his healing to be in the water? Is that gonna make an infection more likely?” he fretted. Zayn waved him off without even turning, too busy leaning over the tank and studying the creature.    
  
He was still sitting upright, alert and showing no clear signs of pain, studying Zayn just as intently. 

Zayn reached a cautious hand forward towards the water of the tank, but the second his hand broke the surface the creature started growling again—it was a noise that reminded Harry of the sound the Village’s cat made when you tried to pick him up, but a lot lower in pitch. Zayn ripped his hand back, but the noise didn’t stop until Harry grabbed a hold of his shoulder and pulled him away.    
  
“You’re freaking him out!” Harry hissed, still holding him back. 

Zayn wheeled on him. “I’m freaking  _ him  _ out! He’s the one that sounds like he’s about to bite my fucking head off.”

Harry looked back at the creature, now glaring at Zayn.    
  
“In all fairness,” he said, slowly and calmly. “We did shoot him with a harpoon last night.”

Zayn let out a frustrated sigh, then relaxed in his hold. “I know. You’re right, man.”

Harry patted his shoulder. “Maybe…”

Zayn looked at him dubiously. “Maybe what?”

Harry shrugged, then mumbled, “Maybe I could try?”

Zayn looked like he was about to protest, then he made a considering noise. “I mean,” he scratched at his scruff, “if he takes a chunk out of you, my first aid kit’s _right_ here, and unlike _some_ people, I know what I'm doing. It would hardly be the first time I've had to stitch you up.”

Harry made a face at him, and Zayn laughed. Harry hadn’t been the most coordinated teenager, and he'd sliced himself open a few more times than he'd care to mention. 

Harry's attention was caught when he saw the merman shift in his tank. He had moved forwards a little, head tilted to the side. 

Harry smiled at him, trying to make his expression as reassuring as possible. The creature didn't smile back, but he didn't shy away either. 

“See? He likes you,” Zayn said, busying himself with rooting through the first aid kit. 

Harry cleared his throat, then took a step towards the tank. He leant his forearms against the lip, peering down through the water. When he'd done this last night, he hadn't been able to see the brilliant blue hue of the merman’s tail, he'd been deprived of the way his scales shimmered and glinted in the light. He blinked at the creature, and the creature blinked back. 

“So what, I just… hop in?” Harry looked at Zayn over his shoulder. Zayn just shrugged noncommittally. 

That usually meant ‘yes’. 

Harry pulled his shirt off, ignoring Zayn’s sarcastic wolf-whistle, then pushed himself out of his bottoms like he’d done last night. 

The creature watched his movements curiously. Harry took a deep breath before he lowered his hand into the water experimentally.

He winced and closed his eyes and waited for his fingers to be bitten off. 

Nothing happened. 

Harry opened his eyes one at a time, only to find the merman staring up at him with a dry expression. It was the kind of deadpan look that Harry would expect from Niall after he asked how his dodgy knee was doing during storm season. 

“Alright, judgy,” Harry muttered, pulling himself up over the edge of the tank and plopping down into the luke-warm water. “Not like you weren't growling at my mate a moment ago.”

The merman didn't spook as Harry organised himself standing in the tank. The water came up to just above his waist, lapping against his cold skin. 

“I don't think he can understand you, Haz,” Zayn offered. 

Harry turned to him to stick his tongue out, and Zayn gaped. Harry couldn't imagine that reaction was for him—he'd known Zayn since they were kids, so childish behaviour between them would hardly be a surprise. But then he looked down, and started cackling. 

Because the merman had mimicked Harry, and was poking his tongue at Zayn too. 

He stopped when he heard Harry's laughter. When he smiled up at him, Harry felt his heart start beating faster in his chest, which was  _ never  _ a good sign, least of all when it was happening because of a fish….person.

He startled a little when Zayn’s hand settled on his bare shoulder. 

“You alright?” Zayn asked, fresh gauze held in his other hand. 

Harry nodded, then looked back down at the merman. “How am I doing this?” he asked himself. Last time had been easier, because the creature had been unconscious. 

Which was a very creepy thought, actually. 

In the end, he didn't need to decide, because the creature decided for him. 

He reached his arms (his toned, golden arms) upwards and grasped the lip of the tank on either side. It wasn't a particularly wide tank—about a metre—but Harry was still impressed at the ease with which he raised himself up. 

And then he stopped being impressed, because he was too busy being flustered. The merman had pulled itself into an upright position, holding himself up easily with his hands curled around the edges of the tank and his tail folded against the bottom for support. His head came up to about three inches lower than Harry's, and their bodies were separated by a thin thirty centimetres of water and air. 

“Bloody hell,” someone whispered, and Harry distantly wondered if it had been him or Zayn. It didn't really sound like something Zayn would say, though. 

Harry gulped, and the creature tilted his head to the side as he watched the movement. He reached one of his delicate webbed hands towards Harry, who watched it approach with wide eyes. The creature’s hand settled on Harry's chest, and Harry stopped breathing. He ran his fingers over Harry's skin clinically, like he was feeling for imperfections, for cracks in a wall. 

His hand was steadily moving downwards, and Harry was left staring at it breathlessly. He could see Zayn struggling to contain his laughter in the corner of his eye, but the situation didn't strike him as remotely funny. 

The first time in years someone had touched his body like this, and it was a curious merman who likely had no idea of the implications of the action. 

The creatures fingers met the waistband of Harry's boxers, and Harry almost breathed out a sigh of relief. But then the creature peered closer and tried to stick his hand in Harry's pants, and. Well. 

He jumped backwards and held his hands out. He also may or may not have squeaked. 

Zayn started giggle-snorting, and Harry turned to him with wide, spooked eyes. 

Zayn just laughed harder. 

The creature reclaimed Harry's attention when it made a small, twisting movement. It pushed itself back into Harry's space, then made a soft, whispering noise. It was a little like purring and a little like shushing. Mostly, it just sounded comforting. 

Harry cleared his throat and tried to relax his shoulders.

“I’m okay,” he answered. “Just maybe… ask first next time, yeah?”

The creature pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, but he also didn’t try to stick his hand down Harry’s pants again. 

Harry still couldn't tell if he was understanding a single thing he said. 

He shook himself off, then pointed to the gauze wrapped around the merman’s stomach. “I'm just gonna take that off, alright? Don't freak out.” He tried to maintain eye contact as he reached towards the creature, but then the creature blinked and looked away. Harry snuck a look over his shoulder at the object of his gaze and found it to be the plate of seafood Zayn had left on the table. “Yeah, that's for you,” Harry said, talking mostly just to distract himself as his fingers unfastened the end of the wrapping and started to pull it off. “We brought you a bunch of different things to try.” Harry almost had to hold the creature in a loose embrace, to unwrap the gauze from his torso. In the back of his mind, he was still afraid of getting a chunk bitten out of him, but his hands and voice were steady as he worked. “Hopefully you eat… something on there.”

Harry let out a breath as he pulled the last of the gauze off, leaning back to study the skin that had been revealed. It was lovely and golden, like the rest of the creature. A smooth stomach, toned but soft.

And no sign at all of a wound. 

“What the fuck,” Harry breathed. He couldn't stop himself from pressing his fingers to the skin above his right hip where all that blood had come from last night, like if he pressed hard enough that jagged wound would reappear, or his stitches, or anything that could tell him he hadn’t gone insane.

But the skin was real, and perfect, and  _ healed.  _

“How bad is it?” Zayn asked, still lurking by the table. 

Harry let out a shocked laugh, then clapped his hands over his mouth. “It’s gone,” he said deliriously from behind his fingers. 

“What?” Zayn asked, coming over to peer at the creature’s stomach. 

“This is amazing,” Harry breathed, hovering his hand over the place where a mortal wound had been just last night. 

His eyes met the creature’s, and all of a sudden he felt overcome. 

This was something  _ magical _ in front of him. He'd been fucking harpooned and he'd healed himself overnight, this beautiful, wonderful,  _ wild _ thing. 

“What do you think his name is?” Harry asked, looking to Zayn urgently. It hurt, suddenly, to not possess that information. Harry was standing in a tank with a miracle and he didn't even know his name. 

Zayn, to his credit, didn’t dismiss the question. “He might not have a name,” he started, scratching at his scruff like he did when he was thinking hard about something. “Maybe we could give him one?”

Harry huffed. “I’m not doing that.” He turned back to the creature, met his now-stormy blue eyes again. “I know he has one already.”

The creature blinked slowly, then turned away to face the platter of seafood. 

Harry sighed, then stepped backwards. “You can put the gauze away, apparently,” he said to Zayn, struggling out of the tank. “But d’you reckon you could pass his food?”   
  
Harry wobbled a little on his feet once he’d successfully clambered out. He dried himself off with his shirt, then pulled his pants back on. The creature was still holding himself up in a standing-like position, watching Harry as he did so. 

But his attention was caught by the food when Zayn walked over with it nervously. He held it out to the creature with a hopeful smile, and Harry could tell he was praying not to lose a finger. 

The merman didn’t take the plate, but he did lean over to peer at the offering closely. He frowned, poking at the prawns in a vaguely disappointed way. 

Harry folded his arms over his chest to stop himself from shivering. “Maybe he only likes fresh stuff? Like, still alive?”

Zayn made a face at him that somehow managed to more succinctly communicate the word  _ ‘gross’ _ then if he had said it aloud. 

The creature eventually settled on the clams, picking them up and dropping them in the tank one at a time before settling back down at the bottom with a small splash. Zayn moved over to Harry and they stood shoulder to shoulder as they watched the merman tear open the clams and slurp out their insides. 

It was definitely gross. But also sort of beautiful. 

Harry was interrupted from delving deeper into  _ that  _ thought by a brisk knock on the door.    
  
“Uh, mates? Ben’s calling a village meeting in five,” came the confused voice of Niall Horan. “Is there a reason this door’s closed? I don’t wanna get scarred.”

Harry met Zayn’s panicked eyes, then waved at him frantically to answer. 

“Yeah, don’t come in!” Zayn called, then Harry watched him struggle for a moment as he came up with a suitable lie. “Me and Harry are…”

Harry put his hands on his hips and raised his eyebrows, daring Zayn to finish that sentence. From the tank, the creature watched the interaction over his clams. 

“Yeah, I don’t wanna know,” Niall shouted back. “Just be in the Iron Room in five, yeah? Fully clothed, please!”

Harry was about to answer when they were met with the sound of rapidly escaping footsteps. 

“Great, now Niall thinks we’re fucking,” Harry hissed, running a hand through his hair.  
  
Zayn scowled at him. “Yeah, you wish.”

“I don’t wish!” Harry shrieked. 

The creature made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, but he seemed to just look very interested in his clams when Zayn and Harry turned to stare at him. 

“You don’t think Ben’s calling a meeting about him,” Zayn asked, a dark edge to his voice as he pointed at the creature.

Harry pinched his nose and tried to stay calm. 

“I don’t know, Zayn,” he answered. “But I think it’s pretty likely.” He loosened his jaw and took a step towards the door. “I’ll meet you there, but I have to go grab a shirt first. Don’t wanna give Niall anymore ‘proof’.”  
  
“Wait, actually–” Zayn stepped between Harry and the door. “–Someone’s gotta stay with him, don’t you think?”   


Harry paused. Fuck. 

“I have to be at that meeting, Zayn, I can’t–” he started.

Zayn held a hand up to interrupt him. “I wasn’t saying it should be you, Haz. I’ll stay.”   
Harry let out a breath. “Will you?”

Zayn shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Sure.”

Harry smiled and stepped past him to the door. “Thank you. Try not to let him take a chunk out of you,” he joked, then pulled the door open a crack. He turned to the creature one last time before he left, only to find it already staring at him sort of sadly. “I'll be right back, okay?” 

It didn’t react to his words, so he turned and slipped out into the hallway. He pulled the door closed behind him, then leaned his head against the wood of it for a moment to gather his thoughts. 

One step at a time. Step one, get a shirt. Step two, go to the meeting. Step three… who the fuck knew. 


	2. I Can Speak To You of Memories and Dust

  
  
Harry was fiddling with the final button of his shirt when he slipped into the Iron Room a few minutes later. It was already crammed full of people standing about and chatting, and Harry found his usual place in the back of the room as the last few stragglers trickled in. He found Ben in the crowd pretty easily, given that he was standing at the front of the room chatting to a couple of his close friends in the Village with a gleeful look on his face.

The uneasy feeling in Harry’s stomach hadn’t faded by the time he took to the front of the room and silence spread across it.

It definitely didn’t fade when  he started talking.   
  
Quite the fucking opposite, in fact.

“Ladies and gentleman, I have _great_ news. Last night, our fishing team found us something that’s going to change our lives. They found us something so rare, so valuable, that not one of you could ever guess it.” He paused for dramatic effect, and Harry almost rolled his eyes. “They found us…. a merman.”   
  
There was a moment of absolute silence broken by only by the squeaking of the floors and a single cough.

“Sorry, what?” Jade asked, raising her hand. “Did you just seriously say ‘merman’?”

Ben grinned at her. “Yes. Yes! I could hardly believe my eyes at first, but it’s _real_ and we have it in our capture.” 

Concerned muttering broke out amongst the villagers, and Harry got the feeling no one believed Ben.

Then Adam stepped forwards to face the crowd. “It’s true, everyone. Perrie harpooned it and it’s in the aquarium right now.”

Harry grit his teeth against a sudden flood of anger. He had no right to be angry about this, Adam was just telling the truth. People deserved to know the truth, didn’t they? And what had Harry thought, that he could keep a merman a secret in a tiny, closed-off village crammed full of nosy people?

Ben clapped Adam on the shoulder, sending his grin around the room. “Thank you, Adam. If you don’t believe me, then feel free to go and look for yourselves!”

A few people turned to the door, and Harry was a moment away from throwing himself in their path like a great big idiot when Ben spoke up again.

“If you’ll just wait a short minute, though!” he called, laughing like the situation was at all funny, “for us to decide what to do with it?”  
  
Ben waited for a moment, letting everyone stew in the silence that ensued. “I have a suggestion,” he eventually said. “We trade it.”   
  
“With who?” Niall shouted back. Harry craned his neck to spot him against the far wall with a pissed-off look on his face. “Those cunts on the Island?”

Ben waved him off. “Of course not, we know they don’t have anything else left that’s valuable to us. No, I’m thinking _much_ bigger.”

He pointed to Ari on his left expectantly, and she cleared her throat.   
  
“I picked up something on the long range scanner yesterday.” She fidgeted with her hair for a moment, then set her shoulders. “It’s big and headed our way. Could be an ocean liner, could be a tanker. Either way, it’s fifty times our size and it’ll be within comms distance in a few days.”

The muttering started up again, people most likely discussing the trades the Village had managed to make in the past with ships.

“They might have gas for the burners we haven’t been able to use for three years,” he heard Sarah say to his left.

“Or new solar panels for the generator!” Tom shot back with a glint in his eye. That gave Harry pause—Tom hadn’t mentioned anything about the solar panels being broken, and usually Harry was the first to know. Everyone else in the Iron Room was engaged in little conversations along the same vein, and Harry watched with a pinched brow. His family all needed things that he couldn’t give them, maybe…

“I’m glad you’re all on board,” Ben interrupted smoothly. “Robin and Anne always believed that trade was the key to our survival, and we’ve just been gifted a big opportunity. I’m sure none of you want to waste it.” Ben’s eyes met Harry’s across the room, and Harry gulped.   
  
He said nothing.

Ben smiled. “We don’t have to decide right away. But I can tell you right now, if you vote for me, I’ll get you what you want from that ship.”

 _At the cost of a merman_ , is what he didn’t say. But it was all Harry could hear.

 

***

  
“For the last time, no one’s getting in!”

Harry hurried past the other villagers clogging up the hallway, muttering apologies and trying his best not to bump into people. His attention was mostly focused on Liam, who was standing guard at the door to the aquarium, arms folded and eyes stormy.

“Liam, come on!” Jade groused from the front of the crowd. “We found out mermaids are real and we're not even allowed to see for ourselves?”

Harry finally broke the front of the crowd and turned to face everyone. About half of the Village—the ones with nothing better to do—had made their way here after the meeting, and Harry had only just caught up with them. He'd hung back in the hopes he could have a word with Ben, but the other man had disappeared.

“Harry! You'll let us in, right?” Jade asked sweetly.

Harry opened his mouth, thought about it for a moment, then answered, “No.”

His proclamation was met with a wave of groaning.

“Alright, calm down!” Harry shared a look with Liam, then sighed. “How about you give me a minute, then I'll open the door and you can walk past _one at a time_ and have a respectful, short look.”

Dissatisfied grumbling.

Harry pursed his lips. “That's all you're getting. He's a merman not a…” Harry struggled to name something more legendary than a merman, and settled on, “talking dog?”

Niall raised his hand, and Harry braced himself for the roasting that was probably about to happen.

But Niall just asked, “So is it a talking merman?”

There were a few nods from other villagers in support of the inquiry.

“Not… Exactly,” Harry evaded. Then, he decided he'd had enough of the questions, and he patted Liam on the shoulder.

“You're in charge of this lot until I come back out, alright?”

Liam nodded and squared his shoulders. “You heard the man! Have a little patience, yeah?”

Jade turned to Niall and very loudly whispered, “Like this isn't the most interesting thing to happen in years.”

Niall, the traitorous bastard, nodded.

Harry turned and twisted the handle on the door, eager to escape the situation. He slipped inside easily, and as soon as the door was closed behind him he let out a breath. He could still hear Liam arguing with Jade and a few others, but the noise was drowned out by something else in the room.

Music.

He took in the scene before him with a confused frown. Zayn was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room, facing the tank with Niall’s guitar in his lap. He was strumming a gentle chord, and he hadn't yet noticed Harry's entrance.

The merman had, though. He was staring at Harry with an odd expression, something heavy that Harry couldn't place.

Then Zayn looked up from the guitar and noticed the creature’s gaze.

“What’s up? Oh!” he smiled at Harry over his shoulder, eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Hiya, Haz.”

Harry cleared his throat. “Am I interrupting?”

Zayn shrugged almost shyly. “Nah, I just thought I'd play him some songs. But hey,” his eye lit up, and Harry couldn't help but smile. “Check this out!”

He turned back to his guitar and starting picking out a familiar melody. Harry laughed and settled himself on the floor between Zayn and the tank, looking between him and the merman as the opening notes of _Take Me Home Country Roads_ filled the room. The older generation of villagers had made sure to pass on the best songs of Earth in her prime, but Harry had always secretly questioned their tastes.

Then the first verse started, and something wonderful happened. Zayn sang the words softly, and his voice was as lovely as it usually was. But in the tank the merman was resting his weight on his hands, staring out at the ocean, and he was _singing._

It wasn't singing like Harry knew it; his mouth wasn't open and no words were coming out, but there was music coming from him all the same. It was like a soft humming, but sharper. The sound of it echoed around Harry's head, and he only remembered to blink when Zayn’s hand stilled on the guitar and the singing stopped.

“He knows it,” Zayn breathed in the ensuing silence. “I didn't teach him that.”

Harry stared at Zayn, then at the creature in the tank. He was still staring out at sea in a sort of melancholy way, like he hadn't just blown Harry's mind.

“How could he know that, Zayn,” Harry hissed, scooting towards him.

Zayn giggled deliriously. “I've got no fucking clue.”

Harry put his head in his hands and tried to gather himself. “Right, well,” he mumbled out. “It's not like its going to matter in a few days, anyway.”

Zayn plucked a wrong note, and the clang of it made the creature growl for a moment.

Zayn ignored the noise, eyes boring into Harry's through the gaps in his fingers.

“Harry,” he started, suddenly serious. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Harry let his hands fall. His voice was dark when he spoke. “It means that Ari’s seen a ship on the scanner, and Ben wants to use him,” he nodded at the merman, who'd gone back to ignoring them, “to trade. And now half the village is at the door trying to catch a glimpse of the fish-shaped bar of gold that's gonna keep us afloat.”

Zayn cursed. “And you just let that happen?”

Harry crossed his arms. “What was I supposed to do, Zayn? Besides,” he shifted his eyes away from the merman, then mumbled, “he’s got a point.”

Zayn’s reply was interrupted by the _snick_ of the door handle and Liam’s head appearing in the doorway.   
  
“Can I let people look yet, Harry? They’re getting pretty rowdy.” 

Harry ran a hand through his hair, wishing he hadn’t lost his hair tie. Stressful days warranted a bun.

“Just… Gimme a sec, Liam.”

Liam nodded and disappeared again.

Zayn opened his mouth, but Harry held his hand up.  
  
“I don’t wanna hear it right now, mate.” He directed his attention away from Zayn and his very pissed-off scowl and towards the tank. He shuffled forwards a bit, then raised his hand to the glass. He considered knocking for a ridiculous second, but the merman turned to face him before he could follow through.

It tilted its head and looked him up and down, as if to say, _yes?_

Harry licked his lips nervously. “Um, hi,” he started. It hadn’t begun to feel any less ridiculous, talking to a creature that he had no way of knowing understood anything he said. “Some of my family are outside that door, and they want to say hello. Would that be okay?”  
  
The merman just blinked then looked away again. Its eyes were on the horizon, and apparently that was all the answer Harry was going to get.

“I hope that’s a yes,” he muttered, pushing himself to his feet.

Zayn stood as well, placing Niall’s guitar back in its spot. “We’re not done talking about this,” he warned.

“I know.”

Harry walked over to the door, took a fortifying breath in, then pulled it open.

Liam had done a very good job of organising people, apparently, because there wasn’t the stampede he was expecting.

Instead, he found an orderly line stretching down the hallway. Jade was first, Niall peeking over her shoulder in a way that shouldn’t have been as cute as it was.

Jade had a sardonic expression on her face. “We promise to be respectful of the fish person,” she recited, and Liam flashed her a thumbs up.

Harry huffed out a laugh, then moved out of the way of the doorway. “One look, that goes for all of you!” He directed the last part of his statement down the hallway.

Jade waved him off and stepped forwards, mouth falling open at the sight in front of her. She didn’t even notice Zayn slink past her and off towards his room, too occupied taking in every detail of the merman in his tank, still staring at the ocean and ignoring them.

“Fuck me,” she whispered, then shook herself off. “He’s so _real._ ”

Harry felt that like a punch to the guts, and he couldn’t rightly articulate why.

“Yeah,” he choked out, then placed his arm in between her and the aquarium. “That’s your look.”

He’d expected at least a small amount of arguing, but Jade just nodded and departed in the same direction Zayn had gone.

“Now, Niall,” Harry warned, stopping the man with a hand to the shoulder. “Those charming gaelic swear words you love so much? Keep them to yourself for this one, please.”  
  
Niall rolled his eyes and shrugged him off. Then, he stepped forward and turned to face the tank, and his mouth fell open.

Harry clapped a hand over it before anything _too_ rude could come out of it, and the sudden movement seemed to catch the attention of the merman. He whipped his head around, eyes searching and landing on Harry’s in an instant. Harry dropped his hand like he’d been caught out, and the merman turned its attention to Niall.  
  
“He’s looking at me,” Niall hissed from the corner of his mouth. “What does that mean?”   
  
Harry clapped him over the shoulder and leaned in to whisper his answer into Niall’s ear ominously. “It means he’s going to eat you in your sleep.”

Niall shivered, then pushed him away. “Piss off,” he laughed.   
  
In the tank, the merman smiled. It revealed his sharp canines, and though Harry found it a beautiful sight it made Niall’s laugh die in his throat.

“That’s me done, I suppose,” he choked out, then fled down the hallway.  
  
“Prepare yourselves, ladies, gents, and folks! He’s almost as good looking as our Harry!” Niall called on his way past. His colourful statement served the dual purpose of making it seem to everyone except Harry had he hadn’t just had the shit scared out of him, and easing the tension in the air for those gathered in wait.

The merman ignored Harry and the villagers for the rest of the next half hour it took for everyone to get their moment of gawking. Harry was tired of it by the time Sarah stumbled away on two awe-struck legs, and he was more than glad to find she was the last to get a look at the attraction.  
  
“Show’s over! Everyone go home!” Liam joked to an empty hallway, arm slung over Harry’s shoulder.

Harry appreciated the levity, but what he needed more was a stiff cup of tea.

“I’m glad that’s finished with. How about you?” he asked over his shoulder. Liam followed his gaze to the tank, where the merman had graduated from ignoring to napping. One of his eyes peaked open at Harry’s voice, but if he had an answer to Harry’s question, he didn’t share it.

He turned back to his nap, and Harry let out a sigh. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”  
  
Liam made a considering noise. “Do you think he can understand us, then? Since you talk to him so much.”

Harry had to stop and think about that for a moment.

In the end, he went with his gut instinct over his brain.

“Yeah, I think he can. Maybe not all the words, but. He understands.”

Liam didn’t pry, and Harry hadn’t been more grateful for something all day.

“You did a great job on the stitches, by the way,” Liam said, poking Harry in the stomach right where the merman’s wound had been last night. Harry giggled despite himself and jumped out of the way, then his features sobered.

“I didn’t do that, Li. He did that. I woke up and he was _healed_.”

Liam raised his eyebrows, then swore softly. “What can’t he do, huh?”

Harry nodded; he quite agreed. But also he’d had enough of people being shocked for one day (or one lifetime). So he changed the subject.  

“Will you get me a tea? Please?” he asked, painting his best pout on his face.

Liam frown melted away, and he pinched his cheeks like Grandma Terry used to do to all the kids, then laughed at Harry’s outraged expression.

“Of course, sunshine. Are…” he paused, one step in the direction of Sarah’s kitchen. “Are you sleeping in here again tonight?”  
  
That, Harry didn’t need to think about. “Yeah, I am. It’s hell on my back,” he laughed, “but after today, I don’t know, Liam. I just don’t wanna leave him by himself.”

Liam dropped his head. “You mean Ben?”

Harry didn’t answer.

Liam didn’t ask again.

The tea he brought a few minutes later was all the comfort Harry needed to settle himself into a boring afternoon watching a merman nap in an uncomfortably small tank, trying to think himself out of a cage of his own.

 

***

 

Harry fell asleep to the sound of crashing waves. His rest was fitful, though he’d made the floor a little more comfortable than it had been last night.  
  
He woke up a few times in the night, blearily blinking through the darkness to check the merman was still in his tank before falling back into slumber. Each time blurred into the next, and blurred into his dreams, which blurred into nightmares.

That was why, when he awoke the next morning with strange memories of something crouching over him and wet footsteps walking away, he didn’t think anything of it.

 

***

 

“You ready to talk about it yet?”

Harry sighed, gaze not moving from the small gadget he was tinkering with. They used to have a few locks lying around for important things, but as time had gone on nothing had seemed important enough (and no one had seemed untrustworthy enough) to keep locked up. So, Harry was fashioning a lock for the aquarium from the pile of rusting spares.

“Sorry, Zayn, I’m way too busy,” he dismissed, then interrupted Zayn’s rebuttal by grabbing his hammer and loudly banging a hole through the metal where the lock to attach to the door.

“Not–gonna–work–mate,” Zayn shouted back in between bangs.

Harry dropped the hammer and sat back in his chair. Zayn looked determined, but he also looked sympathetic. The soft light of morning streaming through the small window in Harry’s workshop gave him a sort of halo, and Harry deliriously hoped for a second that Zayn had been an angel this whole time and he’d sort everything out.

But then the bastard leaned down with his arms crossed and raised his eyebrows at Harry. “Talk.”

Harry grit his teeth. “What do you want me to say, Zayn? People keep trying to tell me that they think I’d make a great leader, and I know they’re wrong, but… If they want me, then I can’t say no. And a leader thinks about everyone, not just one….person.”

Zayn shook his head. “First off, you _can_ say no—don’t argue, I’m not finished!”

Harry shut his mouth.

“Good. Secondly, there’s no rule book on how to be a leader. And if there was, we sure as _shit_ don’t have it. Just because Anne and Robin did things one way doesn’t mean you have to, mate. People want you because they trust you, and they can tell that you believe in them and in the Village. Make this decision based what you want, not what you think other people want. And I _know_ you don’t want to sell off that living creature for a boiler and a couple cabbages.”

Harry snorted tiredly. “You make it sound so simple.”

Zayn patted his shoulder, then leaned down to press a kiss to his curls.   
  
He left Harry sitting in his chair and staring at the lock.

He picked up another piece from his pile and got to work.

 

***

 

Niall arrived while Harry was installing the lock onto the door. His hands were full of three bowls of food, and he hadn’t shaved.

Niall only ever didn’t shave when he had a lot on his mind.

“I’ve got breakfast!” he offered, cheeriness a little more faded than usual.

Harry smiled around the screwdriver in his mouth and waved him in. He was nearly done, anyway.

“Good morning, little fella,” Niall greeted to the merman, parking himself down in front of the tank. “I got you some clams! Zayn said you went bonkers for ‘em.”

The merman was sitting up this morning, pressed in the corner of his tank and watching the horizon. Harry snuck a glance over to see his reaction to Niall’s words just in time to see him turn his head and meet Harry’s eyes over Niall’s shoulder.

Harry couldn’t spare a hand to wave at him, so he just waggled his foot in greeting. The merman tilted his head for a moment, then turned back to Niall with a considering expression.

Niall scrambled for the plate of clams and dropped them all into the tank gracelessly. A couple landed softly on the merman’s tail, and his unimpressed look made Harry bark out a laugh before turning back to his work.

“Well, he’s not eaten me yet,” Niall called to him. “S’that a good sign?”

Harry pulled the screwdriver out of his mouth the fix the final part of the lock in place. It was a tacky sort of rushed job, a bit splintery and likely to come off completely if anyone applied too much pressure, but it would suit his purposes just fine.   
  
“That’s a great sign, Niall,” he called back. “Lemme know when the wedding is.”

Niall sighed wistfully. Harry shot a look over his shoulder and saw him leaning back on one hand, other hand holding a peach from their rooftop garden. “Wouldn't that be nice, hm? A wedding? Haven’t had one in years.”

Harry refused to let himself get pulled into a nostalgia spiral. Knowing himself, one minute he’d be reminiscing about Sarah and Mitch’s wedding, the next he’d be inconsolable over the very real concept that none of his family—including himself—would ever fall in love, because all of their prospects had been right in front of them for years. There’d been plenty of couples come and go, but it was a tricky sort of thing to try when you lived in such close quarters with everyone and relied upon each other for survival. People had seen it end in tears enough times to stop trying, for the most part.

“Yeah,” Harry offered lamely, then he stood. He eyed the mechanism with a critical eye, then tested the lock. The door stayed firmly shut when he pulled on it, and he beamed.  
  
He pulled one of the two keys from his pocket to unlock it, then turned.

The merman was watching him over his clams, half of which he’d managed to devour already, and Niall turned to smile at him.   
  
“Eat your breakfast.” He pushed a plate of porridge and jam towards him.

Harry settled in beside Niall with a soft, “thank you,” and started on his porridge.

“So what were you fiddling with on the door, Haz?” Niall asked after a beat.

Harry pursed his lips then lowered his spoon.   
  
“It’s a lock.” 

“To...to keep him in?” Niall narrowed his eyes at the door, then at Harry.

Harry shook his head. “To keep everyone else out.”

Niall sighed. “That’s probably for the best. I saw Ari and Ben huddled over the long range scanner this morning, trying to make contact. We’ll still have a few days before they get here, but…”

The merman shifted in his tank, picking up all the empty clam shells. Harry watched his movements so he didn’t have to watch Niall, see the worry in his eyes.

“Harry,” Niall prompted. “What are you going to do?

The merman lifted the shells over his head, over the lip of the tank, then let them fall one at a time to the ocean hundreds of feet below. The sight made Harry wonder if the merman had ever considered trying to escape the same way; if he’d thought of lifting himself over the edge and tumbling down.

Harry had no idea if he could survive such a fall. He could heal from a harpoon wound, so there was no reason to think he wasn’t able.

So why hadn’t he, then?

“Harry.”

Harry ignored Niall, pressed himself close to the glass. The merman turned to him instantly, then shifted to mirror his posture.

Harry tilted his head, he tilted his head. Harry blinked, he blinked. Harry’s eyes flitted between his, like he’d find an answer in them. Who knows, maybe he would.

“Harry!”

Harry reared back, shocked to find that he’d forgotten Niall was still in the room. The merman turned his back on Harry, facing the horizon again, and Harry turned to Niall.

Niall looked at him pleadingly. “Please tell me you have a plan, boss.”

Harry huffed. “Not your boss,” he replied, then stood. “Will you watch him for a while?”

“Sure, but–”

Harry walked towards the door. He hesitated for a moment in the doorway, then pulled one of his two keys from his pocket. He set it gently on the small table along the wall, ignoring Niall and the merman’s curious looks.

He locked the door from the outside.

 

***

 

Harry settled in for another fitful night’s rest, trying fruitlessly to fluff up the nest of blankets and pillows he’d dragged in from his bed.

The merman watched with a judgemental sort of look.

“Hey, just because you’ve got nothing comfy in there doesn’t make you better than me,” Harry joked.

He’d spent the day wandering around the village, taking stock of all their resources and talking to people about what they needed.

Because as much as Zayn’s words had lodged themselves in his brain, he’d been there at the meeting when everyone’s eyes had lit up at the prospect of trade. These people needed things, and he had a way to get that for them.

So the question became, how badly did they need them? Was their need greater than the huge part of Harry that told him he couldn’t let anything else bad happen to the creature in front of him?

He was most of the way to an answer, but. He still needed time.

“Did you have a nice day with Niall?”

He only asked because the merman was still staring at him, and usually he looked away by now. It made Harry feel sort of itchy, sort of...guilty.

He didn’t answer Harry’s question, of course, but he did settle down in his tank. His chin was propped up on one hand, and his considering eyes wandered over Harry.

“What?”

The merman blinked.

Harry huffed and turned onto his stomach so he could bury his head in his arms and escape the creature’s gaze.

He didn’t mean to fall asleep like that, but the room was surprisingly warm for being open to the air, and the waves were calm tonight.

His sleep didn’t last very long.

He stirred a little at a new sound a few hours later. It was a wet sound, soft splishes and splashes. He didn’t move, still on the edge of sleep. Then, he heard a thump right beside him. He tensed a little, eyes open with his head still buried in his arms.

There was a shaky footstep next, then another, and another. They were moving away from Harry and towards the door.

There was a moment that he thought he was dreaming, like last time, then there was the unmistakable noise of a key turning in a lock and a creaky door being slowly edged open.

Harry waited, heart in his throat, until the footsteps left the room, then he sat up. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then took a peak at the tank.

It was empty. The water was still moving a little on the surface, small waves splashing against the edges. It would calm down sooner than Harry would, no doubt.

He pushed himself to his feet frantically, then creeped towards the door. There were wet footprints decorating the ground, reflecting the soft moonlight streaming in. He placed his foot next to one and saw it was a little smaller than his.

He poked his head out of the doorway, eyes searching the blackness of the hallway. It didn’t seem like there was anyone around, so he stepped out cautiously. The footprints on the ground were still fresh, and Harry could follow them easily.

He walked slowly at first, then faster. The footprints went down the hallway quite a while, then turned left towards the kitchen.

Harry stopped when he reached the open doorway into the kitchen, flattening himself to the wall and listening.

There was shuffling coming from within, then a soft bang like something metal hitting wood, then a scraping noise. Harry frowned at his feet, took a deep breath, and marched into the room.

Inside he saw the familiar face of the merman—the sharp cheekbones and the blue eyes and the soft brown hair. He was standing behind a long table, cupboard door hanging wide behind him and Sarah’s secret biscuit jar open in front of him.

He looked up when Harry walked in, and his eyes widened. He paused mid-chew, half eaten oat and cranberry biscuit held forgotten in his hand.

Harry couldn’t spot the merman’s bottom half from the other side of the table, but he’d seen enough footprints to give him a pretty good idea of what he’d see if he could.

He crossed his arms.

The merman swallowed.

“Good evening,” Harry said politely. “How are you?”

The merman lowered the half-eaten biscuit back into the tin. He met Harry’s unimpressed look with a neutral expression.

“I was hungry.”

Harry almost choked. The merman had _spoken,_ his lips had moved and words had come out and they’d sounded very strange but they were definitely words and–

“Sorry, what?”

He scowled. “I wanted food.”

Harry walked towards him as if in a trance, reaching out to steady himself on the edge of the table opposite the merman. The walking, talking, merman.

“I fucking knew it,” he breathed, then let out a slightly delirious laugh. “I knew you could understand me!”

The merman frowned. “Yes? I know your noises.”  
  
“No, of course you do, I’m sorry.” Harry felt so wrongfooted that he didn’t quite know where to start. “You can also… I mean, you have….feet?”

The merman looked down at himself, and Harry leaned over the edge of the table to look too.

Well. He definitely had feet. And legs, and rather nice thighs, and a rather nice–

“Feet. Yes. Like yours,” the merman replied. His gaze flicked shiftily from Harry to the biscuit jar, like he was contemplating if it was worth it to finish his snack.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Harry tried his best to sound casual as he fished the half-eaten biscuit the merman had been eating a moment ago from the jar to offer it to him, “where did they come from? Your legs?”  
  
The merman snatched the biscuit and took a small nibble. “Grow.” 

Harry tapped his fingers against the table, mind whirring. “You grew them? Did you grow them last night, too?”  
  
The merman nodded around his biscuit.

“Oh. That’s nice.” Harry’s voice sounded distant in his own head.

Suddenly, the merman reached across the table and caught Harry’s hand, stilling his restless tapping.

“You are afraid?”  
  
Harry snapped his head up to meet the merman’s stormy eyes. He continued before Harry had a chance to protest.   
  
“You have nothing to fear. I will not harm you.”   
  
“No– I mean, I know that,” Harry stuttered. The merman tilted his head to the side, and Harry took a calming breath in before explaining himself. “This is just really odd, and I’m really tired. Can we start over? My name is Harry Styles, and I’m sorry my friends shot you with a harpoon.”   
  
Harry freed his hand from underneath the merman’s—his skin felt so different dry, so much softer—and offered his palm to shake.

The merman finished the final bite of his biscuit and licked the crumbs from his fingers, all the while staring at Harry’s hand.

“I don’t understand.”

Harry’s hand fell a ways, then he held it back up determinedly and pasted a grin on his face. It was about half past one, and he was damned if he wasn’t getting this ridiculous magical biscuit-eating bastard to shake his hand.

“You put your hand in mine and we shake them. It means that we’ve met each other, that we know each other.”

The merman’s mouth twisted oddly, like we was smothering a grin, but he put his hand in Harry’s obligingly. His long nails dug into Harry’s skin, and his fingers were a little sticky from the biscuit he’d just eaten, but Harry politely ignored both of those things. He shook their hands, and the merman watched.  
  
“Um, this is where,” Harry slowed their hands, but didn’t let go. “This is where you would tell me your name?”

The merman’s grip tightened for a moment, then relaxed. “The name that’s mine?”

Harry nodded encouragingly.

The merman pursed his lips, and Harry held his breath. He didn’t know why it was so important to him, to know this creature’s name; his heart just told him that he needed it, that it would help him somehow.

“My name is Louis.”

Harry waited for everything to align within himself, for the mess his emotions had been lately to fall into place. Nothing happened, of course, because a name was just a name. He smiled through his disappointment.   
  
“That’s a nice name,” he offered, releasing the handshake.

Louis shrugged. “I did not chose it.”

That startled a laugh out of Harry, and Louis smiled at the sound. “I mean, nobody does,” Harry replied.

Louis turned his attention back to the biscuit jar, and Harry fished another one out for him. The bribery seemed to be working so far, after all, and he was sure Sarah would forgive him.

“So, Louis.” Louis made a noise around his biscuit—buckwheat and cinnamon this time. “Why are you here?”

Louis stilled.   
  
Harry cursed his lack of tact, but honestly. He needed to know.

“I saw you a few days before we hurt you, didn’t I?”

Louis nodded slowly, then started eating his biscuit again.

“What were you doing around the village? Is your home nearby?”

Louis’s expression was unreadable for a moment, then he swallowed his bite and sighed. His arms were starting to get goosebumps, Harry noticed, but he didn’t seem cold.

“I came to watch the humans. You,” he reached across the table and poked Harry in the chest. “You leave such interesting treasures for us to explore, you give us so much more water to swim in. I learned your noises from watching. I… want to understand.”

Harry floundered for a moment. “We didn’t give you water on purpose,” was all he could think to say.

Louis tilted his head to the side and frowned, like he didn’t understand why intent was important.   
  
“It’s taken a lot from us, the water,” Harry explained, trying to keep the anger from his voice. “I’m glad you like all of the things our ancestors built and let flood, but the rest of humanity is dying because of them.”

Louis blinked a few times. “You are not dying, you have so many. We were dying; we’d know.”

Harry let out a deep sigh, letting his weight rest against the table in front of him. He had no idea how to explain himself to this creature, how to put into words the history and the trauma when he only had his own story to tell.  “I don’t want to fight about this, I’m sorry.”

The merman snorted. He wiped his hands off on a towel on the table. “We aren’t fighting.”

“You seem to know an awful lot for someone that came here to learn.”

Louis narrowed his eyes at him. Harry leant his elbows on the table and cradled his face in his hands innocently.

“And you seem to know very little for someone so large.”  
  
Harry barked out a laugh, then hid his mouth behind his hand. “I am _not_ large,” he whined. “I’m normal-sized.”   
  
Louis looked him up and down. “For a human, that is true.”

Harry smiled, satisfied. Then, he saw Louis shiver.

“You’re probably freezing,” he said, tutting in concern. He rounded the table, and Louis turned to face him without flinching. “Aren’t you?”

Louis looked down at his arms and hands, then shrugged. “My body is cold.”

Harry frowned, hands hovering over Louis’ bare shoulders but not touching. “Are you allowed to be cold? Should we get you back in the tank?”  
  
The merman made a face, then stepped closer to Harry. Harry’s hands met his skin at the action, and this time it was Harry who shivered. “Fine.”

Harry zoned out for a moment staring at his hands on Louis’ shoulders, trying his best to ignore the large part of his idiotic ape brain that was screaming at him about the attractive naked man he was currently touching. Then, he shook himself off.   
  
“Cool, great, let’s go.” He placed his arm over Louis’ shoulder and steered him towards the door, not even bothering to put the biscuit jar away. “I hope no one sees.”

The last part was something Harry had muttered under his breath to himself, but Louis turned his head to face him.

“Why?”

Harry shook his head, focusing on navigating the hallway with a wobbly merman by his side. It was a miracle he’d made it to the kitchen so quickly, with how unstable on his feet he was.

Louis huddled closer to his side, apparently having given up on waiting for a response. Harry marvelled at how warm he felt, since he was still shivering from the cold.

They reached the aquarium in one piece, but Louis made a noise of disgust once they’d stepped through the door.

“I want to keep the legs until morning,” he demanded, crossing his arms and refusing to take another step forwards. “The tank is uncomfortable.”

Harry ran a hand down his face. “Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me,” he sighed. He eyed his misshapen pile of bedding longingly, then looked to the side and found Louis doing the same.

“Come on,” Harry leant down to pick up the mess, a few pillows escaping.

Louis grabbed them up with an excited expression.

“Where are we going?”   
  
Harry poked his head around the edge of the doorway then stepped back into the hallway. “My bed,” he whispered over his shoulder, creeping down the hall past everyone’s sleeping areas. When he shot a look over his shoulder to check if Louis was still following, it was to find the merman grinning with something resembling triumph. “What’s that look for?”   
  
Louis shrugged coyly, and Harry rolled his eyes. “Alright, sassy.”

Harry turned into his room and pulled Louis in after him before he could respond. He pulled his door shut, then threw the bedding he was holding down onto his mattress.

“This is your bed?”  
  
Harry nodded around a yawn, then gestured to the rest of the room. “And this is my room. It used to by my parent’s as well.”

Louis placed the couple of pillows he was holding down on the mattress delicately, then looked around the room. There wasn’t much in here, but it was all he had, so Harry hunched defensively.

“It’s nice.”

Louis turned back to the bed and crawled into it.   
  
Harry clamped a hand over his eyes, but it was too late. The image of Louis’ naked, freshly-made ass wriggling into his sheets was burned in his memory.

“Jesus,” Harry whispered, shaking himself off. “Well, hope you sleep better in there than in the tank.”

Louis’ head poked out from within the pile of bedding. “I will, yes.”

Harry nodded, then hovered awkwardly for a moment. “I’m just going to...go to sleep now, then.” He stared at the other bed in the room, the one his parents had slept on for twenty years. He hadn’t touched it since they’d gone missing, too afraid that the moment he gave in and sought out some comfort from their familiar sheets would be the moment the news would finally come.   
  
And part of him wanted to keep it neat for them, for if they ever came back.

He was about to just say _fuck sleep_ and go bang about in his workshop all night when Louis spoke up from beneath a pile of bedding.  
  
“You said you were going to sleep?” A single eye poked out from underneath a pillow, only barely discernible in the darkness of the room. “Why are you still over there?”

Harry gaped. “You mean–like, sleep with you? I don’t–”

Louis huffed. It was an unfamiliar noise, but even without being able to see his face Harry could picture his annoyed expression. Maybe it was hypervigilance on Harry’s part, maybe it was just that Louis was a very expressionate creature, but Harry had somehow managed to memorise most of the faces he made already.

It was that strange thought that propelled him forwards, motivated him to sit himself down on his mattress then crawl under the sheets. Louis was somewhere in this mess with him, Harry could hear his breathing, but Harry couldn’t see him. It was for the best, probably; if he could, he would only be painfully reminded of how absolutely _naked_ Louis still was. It wasn’t that Harry was at all opposed to nakedness, but that was just with people he knew. Despite what he’d said about shaking hands, he didn’t yet know Louis. Not at all. Hell, only an hour ago he hadn’t even known his name.

Harry tried to form a question on his lips–god knows he had so many for the merman now that he knew he’d get answers–but the bed was warm and soft after two nights on the floor, and he fell asleep before he could say another word.

 

***

 

  
Harry woke up to an empty, messy bed. He ran a hand down his face, contemplating whether or not this development surprised him.   
  
Perhaps he’d been right the first time, and last night had been a strangely detailed dream.

He shook himself off and stood, heading towards his chest of clothes. The clothes he wore on an average day were loose-fitting and comfortable, but today Harry pulled out his loosest comfiest pants and jumper. He needed it; he had four days until the Village was to vote on their new leader, maybe one day until the ship was within communication range, and he still had an important question to ask Tom.

It was something he’d said at the meeting about the solar panels that had tweaked Harry’s attention, but he’d put off tracking him down yesterday.

He couldn’t really afford to put it off any longer.

He stopped by the aquarium on his way, surprised to find the door wide open. He leant against the doorway and took in the scene before him with a tired smile.

Niall was sitting in front of the tank, guitar in his lap and the Village’s three littlest ones sitting in front of him. Carol, Timmy, and Alessio were six, five, and three respectively, and they always seemed to be with a different Villager every day. Harry sometimes wondered how he’d be if he’d been lucky enough to have fifty or so parents, if the loss of just two would be easier to handle.

Harry’s gaze swept past the smiling children to Louis, sitting upright in his tank and watching the little ones with a smile.

Niall was singing a nonsensical little tune that he was clearly making up as he went—something about the importance of composting—and Louis was humming along softly.

Harry left them to it. He ached to get involved, to pick up the children and swing them up in the air until they told him he was their favourite through peals of laughter, to watch how they interacted with the merman, but he wasn’t in a very joyful mood this morning.

Besides, Harry thought, he’d surely just get in the way of Louis’ mental note-taking. Lots to be learned about humanity from its smallest specimens.

It was a very cynical thing to have thought, and Harry paused for a moment, surprised at himself.

Then he shook his head and kept walking.

 

***

 

He found Tom in the generator room. He was sitting on a chair and gazing out the window. He didn’t look up when Harry came in.

“Hey, Tom, can I ask you something?”

Tom startled, then he turned to smile at Harry. “Oh, hey, Harry. Uh, sure. Go ahead.”  
  
Harry scratched an itch on his arm and looked over the generator. It was humming with noise, eagerly turning the sun’s rays into power for the kitchen and charging the batteries they used in their lamps. “You mentioned something about new solar panels in the meeting the other day?”   
  
Tom winced, then laughed uncomfortably. “Yeah, I did, huh?”   
  
Harry crossed his arms and frowned. “Tom,” he said, voice low. “What’s wrong with the solar panels?”   
  
Tom pursed his lips and looked back at the sea for a moment. Then, he stood and threw his hands in the air. “I have no idea, Harry, alright? I sit in here all day and I stare at this dumb machine I don’t understand,” he waved to the generator, then ran a hand through his hair, “and I noticed about a month ago that the batteries weren’t charging as quickly, and Sarah mentioned her boiler was slower than normal, and I _know_ its not because we’re not getting as much sunlight–”

“Tom!” Harry placed his hands on the man’s shoulders. “Take a deep breath, yeah?”  
  
The man complied, and the wild look in his eyes dimmed somewhat. “I haven’t mentioned it to anyone else,” he whispered. “I don’t want people to freak out, or anything. But then when Ben said we might be able to trade, I got so excited.” Tom put his hands on top of Harry’s on his shoulders solemnly. “Harry, if this generator stops working we’re all as good as dead.”

Harry pasted his most soothing smile on his face. “Don’t be so dramatic, Tom. I’ll have a look at the solar panels, yeah? No one’s going to die.”

Tom nodded and took a deep breath. Harry pulled him in for a patented Styles Hug (complete with some back pats), then left him with a smile and a wave.

As soon as he was back out in the corridor, Harry collapsed against a wall. He dragged a hand down his face and muttered a stream of curses.

That was the exact kind of news he didn’t want to hear.

Every time he came close to making a decision, something stopped him—sell off one magical merperson to save sixty nonmagical people, _don’t_ sell him off because slavery is an inexcusable thing to participate in and the Village can just cope, _do_ sell him off because Harry didn’t want everyone he’d ever known to fucking _die–_

It was too much.

He pushed off the wall and headed towards the ladder. Its rungs were steady under his hands as he climbed, and it settled something in his heart.

The garden was thriving today. Harry let his fingers pass over the leaves of the fruit trees, the knee-high corn stalks, the little curly ends of the grapevine.

He walked past his workshop, then knelt down.

The solar panels looked the same as they always did—a flat expanse of metallic sensors, soaking up the sunlight. Harry frowned. He’d been hoping there’d be something simple wrong with them—a tarp had fallen on top to stop them from getting the light they needed, or a wire had come loose that he could fix.

He sighed and closed his eyes.

Then he heard it. A soft noise, but the more he focused on it the clearer it became; chirping. He scrambled over as close to the edge of the Village’s roof as he dared and peered underneath the solar panels. There was a small gap between where the panels lay flat and the roof curved down, and nestled in that gap was a small birds nest.

As his face came into view, three tiny pairs of eyes turned to him. The chirping grew frantic, and Harry reared back.

“I’m sorry, it’s alright,” he soothed, and the baby birds quieted.   
  
Harry’s mind reeled. He hadn’t seen a bird in...years, maybe. The Island still had a few, but most animals had died out when the water came. Even ocean birds, accustomed to flying miles and miles for food or shelter, had been few and far between.   
  
But the little creatures in that nest weren’t gulls or albatrosses or auks. Harry was struggling to think back to the book of birds Robin had kept in their room. It was one of the few books with pictures the Village had managed to save, and Harry learned to read just so he could flip through the pages and read about the wonderful creatures inside.

His question was answered a moment later when a small shape darted up from the side of the Village and perched on the side of the nest. The parent bird took Harry in for a moment, then fed its hungry children. Harry was frozen as he watched, eyes fixed on the bird’s brilliant red chest, its fluffy feathers and tiny body.

 _Of course,_ he thought. _Of course it's a robin._

A nest of robins sitting right on top of some of the most important wires in the Village. The birds chirped, and the parent bird flitted off again for more food, and Harry knew that there was no way he would ever dare move them.

He sat back as a tear leaked out of his eyes and the ocean breeze tousled his hair. All he could smell was salt, and all he could hear was chirping and the sound of his heart beating in his chest.

For the first time in a long time, Harry made up his mind.

 

***

 

“Little ones gone already?”

Niall looked up from where he’d been scrawling something in his journal. The pencil he used was worn down to a nub, and Niall’s fingers were perched rather ridiculously around it as he wrote.   
  
But he smiled up at Harry like he hadn’t a care in the world—like he had more than ten pages left in that thing—and nodded. “Yeah, Jesy came to steal them away. She wanted to make a braid train.”   
  
“And she didn’t invite me?” Harry slapped his knee, trying to share a look with Louis in the tank. Louis just stared black blankly.

Niall cackled. “Hey, mate, she didn’t invite me, either.”   
  
“Yes, but you didn’t invest years of energy into growing your mane out,” Harry replied, nose in the air.

Niall pushed himself to his feet, wincing as he straightened out his knee. “You’ve got me there, Haz. D’you mind taking over Merman Watch? I’m dying for a stretch.”

Harry ushered Niall out the door. “Go give Jesy a piece of my mind for me, will you?”

Niall kissed his cheek then darted off. Harry smiled after him, then startled when he turned.

Louis had pushed himself up onto his tail and was resting his head on his hands on the lip of the tank. His expression was inscrutable, but Harry tried anyway. Perhaps he was… crampy?

“Do you, um.” Harry mumbled, then walked further into the room so he could close the door behind him. “Do you know much about birds?”

Louis tilted his head to the side, and Harry had a wild moment of doubt; had he imagined last night after all? Had Louis not been able to understand him this entire time?

But then Louis smiled softly. “I have seen birds. About this big?” He held up his hands a foot apart questioningly. “With beaks and feet and wings?”

Harry sat down in front of the tank and organised his legs. “Yeah, that’s right. But sometimes they’re smaller, or bigger.”  
  
Louis pursed his lips. “Not anymore.”

Harry shook his head sadly. “That’s what I thought, too. But I found a nest of Robins today. Here–” he pulled the birdwatching book he’d grabbed from his room out from his pocket, stroking its cover fondly before flipping it open onto the page he wanted. “Like this.”

Louis leant down to get a better look, arm muscles bulging to keep him upright. His chest was pressed against the lip of the tank now, and Harry could see a red line forming in his damp skin. He swallowed, and Louis looked from the illustration to Harry.

“They’re small and orange?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. Or, like, an orangey-red, but. It doesn’t matter. They’re nesting in our solar panels, and I don’t know what they’re doing but our generator is getting less power because of them.”

“So the birds are hurting something that's important?” Louis frowned.

“Yes.” Harry looked down at the book, the intricately drawn lines of the robins on the page. “And I’m going to leave them there.”  
  
Louis drew back a little, resting his head on his hands again. He raised his eyebrows in an unimpressed way. Harry was glad he was telling Louis this; there was something about how he seemed to see the world, something concrete and simple. It was so different to the constant whirring of Harry’s mind, the way he was always unsure of himself and the decisions he made. It was...refreshing.   
  
“You are in charge here?” Louis asked.   
  
Harry’s mouth pinched. “Not really. Well, maybe.”

Louis shook his head. “No. You _are_ in charge. And you chose to help the birds.”

Harry coughed out a laugh. “Sure, I guess so.”  
  
“Then you are a good leader,” Louis said. He unfolded one of his arms and pressed a hand against Harry’s throat, sharp nails biting against Harry’s skin.   
  
Harry froze, eyes wide, but Louis didn’t seem aware of how threatening such a gesture could be perceived.

“Here is your problem.” Louis tapped his pinky finger, and Harry inhaled shakily. Then, Louis lifted his hand away and lifted his up to poke Harry in the forehead. “And there is your answer.”

Harry closed his eyes. “Do you even know what the question is?”   
  
Louis glared at him. “No,” he shot back defensively. “But I’m right.”

Harry shook his head with a wry smile. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Louis lifted himself up again, leaning so far towards Harry that their faces were only separated by a few inches. When he spoke, Harry could feel his breath on his skin. He smelled like salt water and musk, and Harry wanted to breathe him in for years.

“No,” Louis repeated. “But I’m right.”   
  
Harry closed his eyes and nodded, giving up the fight. He felt Louis lean closer and press a soft kiss to his cheek like Niall done a few minutes ago. Except, when Niall had done it Harry’s heart didn’t skip a beat in his chest.

When Harry opened his eyes, Louis had sunk back into his tank. He leant against the far side of the glass and watched Harry with a heavy look in his eyes.

Harry, for once, knew what it meant.

He leant back on his hands and sighed.   
  
“So…” he drawled, skin itching to change the subject. “Do you want to hear a story?”   
  
Louis smiled and flapped his fin in a way that Harry took to mean, _yes, Harry, I would love to._

“Well, a few years ago Niall decided to try to dye his hair—that means change the colour,” Harry started. “It went about as well as you would think.”

In the tank, Louis settled back against the wall, blue eyes fixed on Harry’s face.

 

***

 

Harry paced around the door, glancing at it every few seconds.

He knew the real reason he didn’t want to go in, the real reason any of this had been a tough decision to make.

 _Robin and Anne always believed that trade was the key to our survival,_ Ben had said.

And he’d been fucking right, was the thing. Their trade agreements were the only reason the Village had lasted as long as they did. It was also the thing that got them killed.

Harry was done going along with this because its what his parents would have wanted.

He shoved the door open.

Ben and Ari looked up from where they were huddled over the long range radio. Ben looked surprised for a moment, then his face settled into something ugly and smug.

“Harry! Here for an update? We’ve just managed to contact the cruiser, they’ll be swinging by in three days.” His teeth caught the light of sunset streaming in through the window, making them look sharper.

Harry frowned. “Call them back and tell them not to bother.”

Ari’s hand twitched—ready to obey—but Ben caught her wrist.

“I don’t think we’ll be doing that, actually,” he warned. “We’ve still got two days before everyone votes, if you’d forgotten. You’ve got no say in this yet.”

Harry crossed his arms. “The fuck I don’t. I won’t let you sell him off, Ben.”  
  
“Oh, so it’s a _him,_ now, is it?” Ben sneered, stepping towards Harry. “You’re nothing but a child throwing a tantrum, I can’t believe anyone would ever take you seriously as a leader. Putting that grotesque fish-man in front of your _family._ We need this, Harry. Grow up.”

Harry tried not to let Ben’s words get to him, but his hands still shook.

“It doesn’t matter how much we need it, Ben. I won’t let you.” Harry eyed the distance between himself and the radio, but there were two people in between him and it.

“You won’t have a choice when I win in two days.” Ben settled back on the desk, looking like he thought he’d _already_ won.

Harry clenched his jaw and stalked from the room.

Louis’ room was empty save for him, like Harry had left it. Louis looked up at him the second the door closed behind Harry’s back, eyes running over his tense form calculatingly.

“You have to leave.”  
  
Louis flinched back. He looked hurt, then pissed. He pushed himself up, torso balanced on the lip of the tank. “Why?”

Harry blew out a breath. _Because humanity will do whatever it takes to protect itself, like it always has,_ Harry thought.

“Because one of the people here has arranged to sell you to a cruiser full of other survivors in exchange for the couple pieces of crap we need to not plummet to the bottom of the ocean,” is what he chose to say. His first answer was more succinct.

Louis’ face was oddly blank. “If your Village needs this _crap_ then why would you send me away?”   
  
Harry balked. “Louis, what the fuck? No, I’m not letting them sell you off. Jesus.”

A dark voice in Harry’s mind mocked him for sounding so offended at the concept when he _had_ been considering it, but. Harry had never claimed to be perfect.

Louis mulled over his words for a moment. “Alright,” he decided. “If this is what you want.”

“It is,” Harry said, walked over to him. “Thank you.”  
  
Louis smiled at him—a bemused smile, lacking his normal crinkles by the eyes. “Why do you thank me?”   
  
Harry ignored the question, focusing instead on his hands hovering over Louis’ skin. “Um, I need to carry you, I think?”

Louis pushed himself up further until he could wrap his arms around Harry’s neck. Harry shivered at Louis’ damp, cold skin pressed against his own—even through a layer of clothes, it still felt...loud. He pushed it out of his mind and hoisted Louis out of the tank, settling one arm around his back and the other under his tail.

“This would be easier if you grew yourself those legs of yours,” Harry grunted, making for the door. Louis wasn’t the heaviest thing he’d carried—in fact, he was far lighter than he should have been—but he was nervous to get this over and done with.

It hadn’t escaped his attention that he hadn’t exactly stopped to run this by any of his friends, which was usually an indication that it was a very stupid idea.

Still, he pushed the door open with his feet as Louis shrugged in his hold.

“Most likely,” he said, settling himself. He leaned his head against Harry’s chest, and Harry scoffed fondly.

“Having fun there?” he asked, peering down the darkening hallway then bolting for the door.

“Yes.”

Pushing this door open was a much harder task, but Harry managed. The sky was lit up purple and red with the setting sun, dipped so far beyond the horizon Harry could only see a hint of it across the waves. He set Louis down gently on the wooden planks, then got to work hauling the platform up.

“Is this your entire plan?” Louis asked, sounding bored.

Harry sent him a glance over his shoulder. “What's wrong with it?”

Louis shrugged demurely. “Its not very dramatic. Not like what a Knight would do.”

“Know much about Knights, do you?” Harry panted, pulled the platform the last final metre.

Louis didn't answer him, but when Harry turned to help Louis onto the platform he was staring at him flatly. _What, like I can’t read?_ His expression said.   
  
Harry made a face at him. _What, like you’re not a mermaid?_

Louis relaxed and shrugged. _That’s fair._

Harry shook his head. “Come on, onto the platform, please.”

Louis pulled himself over and onto it. His tail looked a little odd in the last few seconds of sunlight, then his shadow stretched out and the world became darker and his tail started _shining._

“What,” Harry breathed, kneeling down on the platform and hovering his hands over the trail of beautiful bioluminescent scales. They ran up both sides of his tail and decorated his fin, delicate patterns of swirls.

Louis watched Harry’s reaction carefully, studying it.

“I can make it glow,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry choked on a laugh, hand finally settling against Louis’ scales. Louis leaned closer to him the instant he made contact, eyes searching.

Harry traced a finger around one of the glowing scales, and Louis leaned closer still.

A sharp clang echoed behind then, and Harry jolted back, whirling around. But there was nothing there; only the corrugated iron adjusting to the drop in temperature. When he looked back at Louis, he was shocked; he hadn’t realised how close they’d gotten. If Harry had just turned his head a certain way, their lips could have–

No. Harry was here to set Louis free; to help him, not make things worse.

So he pushed himself to his feet and started lowering the platform. Down, down, down to the crashing waves below and to Louis’ escape.

He tried not to think about what it meant, that Louis’ tail could glow. Was it glowing the night he’d been harpooned? Why hadn’t he done it before now?  
  
Eventually, Harry tied off the rope. They were close enough to the waves that Louis could easily lower himself into them, but not too close as to be washed away.

He sat down next to Louis and cleared his throat.

“I guess, um. I guess this is goodbye.”

Louis looked out across the waves, then back at Harry. He contemplated him for a few moments.

“No,” he said, something dark and angry in his eyes. “It’s not.”

“Louis, you have to go,” Harry hissed. “It’s not safe for you here, you know that.”

Louis scoffed and looked back at the waves. Harry kept pressing.

“Don’t you have a family to go back to? Someone who’s missed you?”

Louis’ shoulders stiffened at the mention of a family.

“Louis. Please.” Harry placed his hand on his shoulder, but Louis shook him off. He scowled at him in that defiant way he had—looking for all the world like he’d rather eat a plate of dead prawns—but pushed himself off the platform nonetheless. An angry splash and a glimpse of shining blue scales later, and he was gone.

Harry leaned over the edge of the platform, straining his eyes to see. There—something that glowed and wriggled through the water. The light got smaller and smaller, and Harry sighed. He sat back and put his head in his hands.

He’d done it; Louis was safe from Ben, and from the rest of Harry’s desperate family. But Harry still had a whole village full of problems to solve, and the only solution to most of them had just disappeared into the depths of the ocean.

_Splash._

Harry looked up with a start in time to see Louis haul himself back onto the platform, the thud of water dripping against wood drowning out the beat of his heart. Louis’ arm muscles strained to pull him up all the way then he was settled on the platform—soaking wet, a groove between his eyebrows, and something clasped in his right hand.

“Louis–”

Louis kissed him.

Harry froze.

Louis made a small noise against his lips, something sad and frustrated. He placed his hand on Harry’s neck, bringing their faces closer. Harry’s eyes were squeezed shut tightly, but he opened them when Louis pulled back with a frown.

For a moment they just stared at each other. Then, Louis shifted backwards.

Harry chased him. He bright his hands up to frame Louis’ face urgently and slotted their lips together, giving and taking. Louis’ breaths were coming out in pants as they kissed—a tender movement of lips against lips, but enough to get Harry’s heart racing.

Suddenly, Louis pulled back again. He was pressing something into Harry’s hands before Harry could complain.

Harry looked down and his world came to a stop.

Robin’s compass was sitting in his hand, waterlogged and dull in the moonlight.

“How–” Harry stuttered, looking back up at Louis’ face. “What?”

Louis smiled gently. “I saw it fall. It’s important to you?”

Harry nodded mutely, then he cleared his throat. “Yeah, um. It was my father’s compass, he gave it to me years ago.”

Louis tilted his head to the side. “Then it is a gift.” He leaned forwards, face right up against Harry’s again. Harry looked between his eyes frantically, searching for something he couldn’t explain. “I have something to say.”

“What is it?”

Louis smiled. “I’m staying. I won’t leave you. I want to help.”

Harry was shaking his head before Louis even finished. “No, Louis, they’ll sell you off, I can’t–”

Louis scoffed. “You can. _You_ are the leader.”

Harry looked down to escape Louis’ gaze, but all he saw was the compass in his hand. The needle was pointing steadily at Louis. Of course it was.

“If that–” Harry cleared his throat, then spoke with more conviction. “If that’s why you came back, then why did you kiss me?”

Louis tilted his head to the other side and frowned, like he hadn’t thought he’d have to explain that.

“Why did you kiss back?” he evaded, pressing his face against Harry’s cheek. “Hm?”

Harry shivered. “Because I wanted to,” he answered honestly.

“Yes,” Louis whispered against his lips. “Exactly.”

Harry leant forwards and kissed him again, if only to prove to himself that he could. Louis hummed and kissed back eagerly. It made Harry wonder if kissing was a thing merpeople did, or if he’d picked it up in his research on humans.

He decided not to ask.

 

***

 

“Isn’t your tail going to dry out or something?” Harry fretted.

Harry pushed the door to his room open with his shoulder while Louis shrugged in his hold.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Harry frowned but didn’t push it. Instead, he made his way over to his bed and laid Louis down gently. Louis smiled when his skin met the sheets, and he wiggled around getting comfortable. His tail—still glowing, the soft blue the only source of light in the room—dislodged most of the blankets, and Harry tried to stifle his laugh.

“What?” Louis asked.

Harry shook his head. “Nothing.” He turned away to root through his chest of drawers then pulled out some comfortable sleeping clothes for himself. He hesitated for a moment, then glanced at Louis over his shoulder. “Would you like a shirt to sleep in?”

Louis made a face at him that said, _of course not, and you’re an idiot for even asking._

Harry made a face back. “Alright, just checking,” he pouted.

Louis rolled onto his front and buried his head in a pillow in response. Harry smiled, then started to get changed.

After he’d shucked his jumper and trousers, he happened to glance up and saw two blue eyes staring at him. Louis had twisted his head around, and there was something heavy in his eyes Harry was hesitant to name.

Harry raised his eyebrows at him questioningly.

Louis sat up. “I’m curious,” he said, and it sounded a little bit like a lie.

Harry’s brain short circuited a little, and what came out of his mouth was a baffling half-remembered joke. “Hi, Curious, I’m Harry.”

He felt like jumping through the wall and into the ocean, but Louis didn’t seem to mind. He just snorted out a laugh and shook his head.

“That’s terrible.”

Harry shrugged, finally managing to pull on his pyjamas. “It’s something my father used to say. I never thought it was funny either.”

Louis hummed. His scales were beginning to look worryingly brittle, but Louis wasn’t paying them any mind. “You miss him.”

Harry nodded, glancing at his parent’s bed without meaning to. “Both of them.”

Louis nodded thoughtfully.

Harry cleared his throat after a moment of silence, then tried to paste a smile on his face. “We should get some rest.”

Louis looked down at the empty space beside him on the bed, then back up at Harry.

Harry crawled up the mattress and settled in. He’d barely got himself comfortable before Louis was wriggling closer to him, pressing up against his side.

Harry looked at him with wide eyes, and Louis looked back. “I’m cold,” he said, wrapping his arms around Harry’s torso, nudging him onto his side. Harry snorted, but let himself be pushed.

Harry could honestly say he’d never been spooned by a merman before, and as he drifted off to Louis’ fingers running across his stomach and his tail pressed against his legs, he found that he didn’t hate it. Not at all.


	3. There Won't Be Time For All of Us

For the second time in two days, Harry woke up alone. 

He’d been waking up alone his entire life, of course, but before he’d just thought of it as...waking up. As Harry sat in his messy bed and contemplated the thrown back sheets beside him, he wondered when he’d started to think of himself as  _ alone  _ when Louis wasn’t there. 

It was a thought that should have been worrying, what with how short a time he’d known him, but. Harry wasn’t worried. 

He was just sad he’d had to wake up alone again. 

He didn’t bother getting changed before he pushed himself out of his room. Once he was in the hallway wondering towards the aquarium, the worry  _ did _ start to set in. 

But he wasn’t worried about getting attached so quickly; no, he was far more concerned about Louis being loose somewhere in the Village with so many of Harry’s family determined to sell him off to the highest bidder. 

He poked his head into the aquarium but found it empty. In the distance, he could hear chatter coming from the kitchen, so he took off towards it. His steps became faster and faster as he went. When he reached the kitchen door he practically burst through it. 

The sight that met him was unexpected to say the least. Perrie, Leigh Anne, and Jesy were leaning against one of the cupboards, and Jade, Niall, Zayn, and Liam were scattered around the large table in the centre of the room. They were all arranged like a painting from one of Zayn’s fading art books; balanced, organised, and staring at the focal point of the kitchen. 

Louis. 

He was standing behind the table like he’d been the first night Harry had talked to him, dressed entirely in Harry’s most comfortable clothes, and eating a tuna sandwich. 

“Oh! Harry!” Perrie exclaimed, the first to notice him bursting in. Everybody else startled a little and turned to look at him with slapped-fish expressions. 

Everyone except Louis, who of course had been staring at him since before he’d even opened the door, probably. 

“Good morning,” Harry said politely. 

“Harry, our merman has legs! He can bloody talk, it’s  _ brilliant!”  _ Liam enthused, and Niall patted him on the back in encouragement. 

Harry gulped and sent Louis a panicked glance. Louis stared back evenly and took a bite of his sandwich. 

“Oh,” Harry managed. “That’s nice.”

Niall’s face fell, then Liam’s and Zayn’s a moment later. 

“What?” Jesy demanded, looking between the three boys, Harry, and Louis. 

“He already knew,” Zayn provided. “Typical.”

“You  _ knew?”  _ Leigh Anne put her hands on her hips. “Since when?”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. 

“This morning,” Louis interrupted around a mouthful of his sandwich. “Since this morning.”

Harry squinted at him. “Yeah,” he said, addressing the room. 

Jade shrugged and changed the subject. “Well, I don’t suppose anyone’s given you a tour yet, Louis?” She batted her eyelashes at him charmingly. 

Louis smiled at her and took the last bite of his sandwich. He wiped a few crumbs from his mouth using the end of Harry’s sweater, which was dangling from his hands in a way that shouldn’t have made Harry’s heart beat loudly in his chest.

“No,” Louis answered. 

“Well, come on, then!” 

Jade turned, Leigh Anne and Jesy following her lead. Perrie hung back, and there was something haunted in her gaze when Louis walked past her to follow the girls from the room. 

“Wait—um,” Harry stopped Jade with an outstretched hand. “Can you make it a quick tour? I’m calling a meeting in ten.”

Jade pursed her lips. “I don’t know, Harry,” she taunted, sharing a glance with her girls. “The Village is  _ so huge,  _ I couldn’t–”

“Alright.” Harry rolled his eyes, but laughed with her a moment later. “Just be there.”

Louis caught his eyes as he was shepherded out of the room. 

Harry was glad he’d given up trying to decipher what Louis’ looks meant, under the weight of that one. 

 

***

 

Harry had never called a meeting before. 

It was so strange standing there at the front of the Iron Room, practicing what he was going to say in his head as he watched his family shuffle in. 

The conversation flowed easily—Harry overheard Louis’ name more than a few times, unsurprisingly—but there was a definite air of tension, especially when Ben strutted in. 

There was a split second where he almost turned to walk over to Harry, but the crowd swallowed him up before he could. Harry lost sight of him and he didn’t bother trying to find it again. 

“Alright, um.” Harry cleared his throat as the last couple of stragglers filed in. Leigh Anne, Louis, and Jade were the last to arrive, and all eyes snapped to the man-mer-man the second he did. “I have something to say.”

Niall snorted from the back of the room, but schooled his features apologetically when Harry sent him a look. 

“You’ve probably heard already, but, in the interest of honesty–or, well, transparency, I guess–”

Everyone he’d known his entire life was staring at him expectantly as he utterly butchered this words. He swallowed down the panic and gestured at Louis. 

“–This is Louis. He’s the merman Perrie harpooned. He can make legs. Or something.” 

Louis nodded at him encouragingly as the entire Village craned their necks towards him. 

Harry spent a second taking him in in this context, surrounded by all of Harry’s loved ones. The thought calmed his racing mind, and when he next spoke it was with newfound clarity. 

“When you all vote tomorrow, I’d like you to know that if you vote for me you’re voting for someone who  _ won’t  _ barter a person for some scraps. We’ve survived all these years, we can survive more. And if not…” 

Several people flinched, but Harry powered on. 

“If not, then at least we’ll sink with our humanity in tact. That’s all.” He stepped away from the centre of attention and towards Louis. 

He hadn’t really been expecting his proclamation to go over well—or to go over at all, if he was honest—but no one spoke a word as he walked up to Louis, grasped his hand, and pulled him from the room. 

He heard it explode into sound the moment he stepped out, and he almost stayed to listen in. 

But then Louis’ fingers twisted in Harry’s hold and their hands slotted together like gears in a mechanism. Harry could still feel the slight sharpness of his nails and the slightly more pronounced webbing of his fingers. It was so much easier to focus on that than it was to listen to whatever was going on in the room behind him. 

“Leigh Anne told me that there is a roof area?” Louis huddled closer, nudging his shoulder against Harry’s until he looked up at him. “Will you show me?”

Harry gulped. 

“Don’t you have anything to say about… About what just happened? Do you think–”

Louis shook his head and started tugging him down the hallway. “I want to see the roof. Please.”

Harry left his questions in the hallway. He didn’t look back at them as he followed Louis. 

Eventually it became clear that following Louis was a mistake, however. He clearly had no idea where he was going, even though he insisted that he did. 

Harry laughed and took over, leading them towards the ladder. He had to let go of Louis’ hand as they climbed, but it was worth it for the expression on his face when he stepped onto the garden. 

“Plants?” Louis crouched next to one of the pumpkins and placed a gentle hand on it. Then, he trailed his hand over the stalk and the leaves, wrinkling his nose at their fuzzy texture. 

“Yeah, it’s where most of our food comes from.” Harry squatted down next to Louis. 

Louis turned his attention to the soil beneath their feet and buried his hands in it. It startled a laugh out of Harry, and Louis rolled his eyes teasingly in response. 

“I’ve never touched dry soil before,” he offered. Then, he squealed. It was a noise of pure delight, and it almost knocked Harry off his perch. Louis was so often stoic—set in himself and his convictions in a way that Harry found refreshing. He’d never imagined Louis  _ squealing,  _ but as Harry leaned closer the reason why made sense. 

Something was wriggling in the dirt next to Louis’ fingers. 

“A little friend!” Louis whispered, gently parting the soil so he could watch the earthworm bury itself into the ground once more. 

Harry pushed some hair behind his ear, but the forceful sea breeze blew it right back out again. “Yeah, we’ve got worms. No big deal.”

Louis sent him a look.  _ No big deal?  _ It said. 

Harry’s poker face broke into a grin, and he shook his head.  _ It is a big deal, and I was as excited as you are when I first saw one.  _

Louis’ lips pinched upwards triumphantly. He turned back to his worm friend, then made a sad noise when he was met with empty dirt. 

“They’re as slippery as their sisters in the water, then,” he muttered. 

Harry pushed himself to his feet and wiped his hands off on his trousers before offering Louis one. Louis accepted it easily. 

“Come on, there’s something else up here you’ll like,” Harry said, enjoying the fact that, for once, it was  _ he  _ who was being cryptic. 

He tugged Louis towards his little shed with a combination of nerves and excitement. He’d never really shown his creations to anyone; everyone he’d ever known had been there as he made them, or didn’t much care.

The look of wonder on Louis’ face made up for twenty years of indifference. The moment Harry pushed the rickety door open, Louis was striding in, eyes hunting all over the bits of twisted up wood and metal (and a few pieces of plastic). His hands danced over the piece made out of forks on the wall, then over the one made out of driftwood leaning against the desk. 

Harry leant against the doorway and basked in Louis’ admiration. 

“What are they?” Louis turned to him, looking like Harry’s answer was the most important thing he’d hear all day. 

Harry tucked that stray bit of hair behind his cheek again, then huffed when it was blown right back in his face. “Um. They’re art, I guess?” He walked over to Louis, then reached past him to grab his favourite little creation from his desk. It was an intricate mess of twisted wire and broken glass shards, and everytime Harry looked at it he saw something different. “I make repairs all over the island, replacing broken things and collecting the stuff that we don’t need. I keep everything that’s still usable on that side of the room,” he gestured to the wall of shelves, and Louis only spared it a passing glance. “Everything else I use to… Well, to make.”

Louis pried the wire and glass creation from Harry’s hands gently, then studied it against the sunlight coming through the window. 

“It looks like—oh. I don’t know your word for it, but it looks like a type of coral?” Louis glanced back at Harry with a hopeful smile. 

Harry nodded. “It looks like lots of things. That’s kind of the point.”

Louis humed, then put the object back on Harry’s desk. He studied Harry, then announced, “I think you should let me braid your hair.”

Harry stood there stunned for a moment. 

Louis shuffled nervously, then gestured to the mess atop Harry’s head. “It looks like you could use it.”

Harry blushed furiously. He parked himself down on the floor in front of his desk chair. 

“You can, if you want to.” Harry looked up at Louis from under his eyelashes, and it seemed like it was Louis’ turn to be stunned. 

Then, he shook himself off and sat on the chair behind Harry. Harry felt Louis’ fingers hover over his head as if the air between them wasn’t there at all. 

“I might...pull, a little,” Louis whispered, fingers finally settling into Harry’s hair. 

Harry stared at the forks on his wall as Louis seperated his hair into three parts. “I don’t mind,” he croaked. 

Louis hummed, and then the shed was silent except for the ever-present noises of the ocean below, but even those were drowned out by the rushing in Harry’s ears. 

Louis had warned Harry that he would tug, but his fingers were nothing but gentle as they braided Harry’s hair. Harry tried to follow his movements, closed his eyes to map out the style Louis was giving him, but the speed and complexity of his movements proved too hard for Harry to follow. 

“I do this for my sisters, sometimes,” Louis offered into the silence. 

Harry sat very still. “Sisters?”

Louis cleared his throat, and his hands twitched in Harry’s hair. “Yes. Five sisters, one brother.”

Harry whistled. “You’re lucky to have such a large family.”

“I suppose so.”

Harry counted a few breaths, but it seemed Louis wasn’t going to say more on his own. “Do you miss them?”

Louis’ movements stilled. “Of course. But I haven’t been gone  _ that  _ long. I’ll see them again soon.”

Harry frowned. “So you’re leaving?”

Louis laughed softly. Harry tried to twist around in to see his expression, but Louis tightened his hold to keep him in place then started braiding again. 

“I thought you wanted me to leave?” Louis’ voice was coy. 

Harry huffed. “I want you to be alive. Leaving would be the easiest way to achieve that.”

Louis shifted closer as he tied off the end of Harry’s braid. When he spoke, Harry could feel his breath against the shell of his ear. “What else do you want, Harry?”

Harry shivered. “Too many things to name,” he murmured. Something about the heaviness of the air between them made him want to cut himself open so Louis could see inside, but he knew better than to do so. Or, he thought he did. 

“Try.” Louis’ hands settled on Harry’s shoulders, then slowly travelled down his torso. 

Harry leant back against him. “I want my family to be safe.”

Louis’ hands reached his stomach. One moment he was hovering over Harry and the next he was kneeling on the ground behind him, front pressed to Harry’s back. “What else?”

Harry bit his lip. “I want...a future. A future where I don’t have to be worried all the time.”

Harry felt the ghost of lips on his neck, a spot where his hair would normally cover. He kept his eyes forward, but tilted his head to the side to give Louis better access. 

“What else?” Louis asked, right against his skin. 

Harry’s hands clenched into fists. Louis pried the fingers of his right hand back open, then slotted his fingers against Harry’s 

Harry stared down at their joined hands. Waves crashed against the columns below. 

“I want you to kiss me again.”

Louis smiled against his neck. “Who, me?”

Harry rolled his eyes. He turned in Louis’ hold, letting go of his hand so he could bring both of his up to frame Louis’ face. 

Louis looked between his eyes. He had  _ that  _ expression again, the one Harry couldn’t name. 

Harry leaned closer, nudged their noses together. Louis’ eyes fell closed. 

“Do merpeople kiss?” Harry asked against his lips. Of all the pressing questions he had for Louis that he doubted he would answer, this was the most important. 

Louis snorted softly. “Sometimes. Not as much as humans, I don’t think.”

Harry pulled back to find Louis’ eyes open again, staring at him with easy-to-read fondness. “But you like it, yeah?”

Louis fisted Harry’s shirt and tugged. “Yes,” he said snippily. “Now are you going to or–”

Harry kissed him. He tilted Louis’ head to the side with his hold and slotted their lips together, harsh and urgent. 

Louis made a small noise then huddled closer. His fingers spasmed against Harry’s shirt, then he was pulling the material out of the way and pressing his hands to Harry’s skin. 

Harry moaned into the kiss and Louis nipped his bottom lip lightly. 

After a minute or so of that, Harry had to pull back to breathe. Louis looked as affected as he did—flushed cheeks, mussed hair—and Harry took some comfort in that. 

“I like it too,” Harry admitted, 

Louis grinned.

 

***

 

Harry knocked on Niall’s door about a half hour til dinner time. 

Louis was an even presence by Harry’s side, tucked up against him and rumbling slightly. Maybe it was Harry’s imagination, but he could have sworn Louis was  _ purring.  _

The noise stopped when Liam opened the door. 

“Harry! Louis!” he greeted, throwing the door open to reveal Niall and Zayn lazing on the bed behind him playing cards. “Boys, look who it is.”

Zayn leveled them with an unimpressed look that melted into a smile. “Loved your speech this morning, Haz. You’ve really grown a pair.”

Harry flipped him off. 

Liam laughed and beckoned them in. 

Niall sat up as Harry and Louis stepped into the room. “Harry, that braid looks wicked.”

Harry puffed out his chest. “I know, right? Louis did it for me,” he bragged, despite the fact that he hadn’t seen what it looked like yet.

Niall raised his eyebrows at Louis. “He’s full of surprises, that one,” he said. 

Louis shrugged, not at all fazed by the scrutiny. “We learned that style from humans long ago.”

Harry turned to face him. “Really?” he breathed, patting at his hair and trying to imagine the humans who had created this style, all the complicated twists and knots. Something like grief swelled in his stomach. 

Louis frowned at him. 

“Well, anyway,” Liam interrupted. “Are you coming to dinner tonight? I thought you might like to make an appearance after your announcement this morning.”

Harry grimaced. “I’ll have to talk to people about that, won’t I?”

“Not if you don’t want to,” Zayn replied. He dropped a card down onto the bed from his hand and Niall cursed. 

“I will come to dinner,” Louis declared, pulling away from Harry to sit behind Niall and peer at the cards in his hand. Niall shifted to the right so Louis could see better. 

“Um, Louis,” Harry scrambled. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea?”

Louis poked one of the cards. “What does that one do?” 

Niall shrugged. “I can’t play that until I’ve got two pairs.”

Louis scowled at him. 

“Louis?” Harry parked his hands on his hips. 

Finally, Louis glanced at him. “I’m going,” he stated. Then, he lifted his chin towards Harry expectantly. 

Harry rolled his eyes, giving up the fight. “Alright,” he mumbled, then leaned down to give Louis the kiss he was asking for. 

Liam started coughing. 

Harry’s shoulders hunched defensively. “What?” he asked, meeting Niall, Zayn, and Liam’s shocked stares. 

Louis snickered and patted Harry’s face. Then, he turned back to Niall. 

“How about that one?” He pointed at a different card. 

Niall sent Harry a heavy look, then sighed. “I could play that one, yeah.” 

He dropped the card onto the bed. Immediately, Zayn slapped a card atop it. Niall cursed—much louder, this time—and threw his entire hand at Zayn’s laughing face. 

“This game is stupid,” Louis said, looking between a now-tousling Niall and Zayn. 

“You’re not wrong,” Liam replied, patting his back. He shrunk away at the glare Harry sent him, though. 

“Dinner time?” he asked.

Louis sprung from the bed. “Take me to the food.”

Harry offered his hand before Liam could get any more ideas.

 

***

 

Dinner was as rowdy as it usually was. 

Harry took comfort in the chaos, relaxing into his chair as Liv and Julio fought over the roast pumpkins and the little ones babbled away making a mess of their plates. 

The dining room was a wide, bright space; it had windows without curtains and solar-powered lights. It also had three long tables, and Harry and Louis were sat at the end of the very last one. No one had really paid them much mind so far which was… unexpected, to say the least. 

But about halfway into dinner, Adam turned to face them. 

“So, Louis,” he said, shoving some cabbage into his mouth. “You’re a mythical being. What’s that like?”

Harry raised his eyebrows and took a swig of his water. The familiar tang left by their water filtration system settled his nerves. 

Louis, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine with such a blunt question. 

“What’s it like to be human?” he fired back shrewdly. Adam’s face pinched, and Louis shrugged. “It’s all I have ever known. Though I find it strange that you call me mythical. I’m right here.”

The din of the dining room died down a little as everyone at the last table started to take notice of the conversation. Twenty or so curious eyes were directed their way. 

Harry slumped down in his seat, but Louis put a grounding hand on his leg. 

“How many of you are there?” Adam asked, leaning his elbows on the table. “Surely not that many, if you’ve gone unnoticed for so long.”

Louis’ lips pinched. “What makes you think we’ve not been noticed?” he asked coldly. “That’s why there are so few of us.”

Harry stared at him in shock. 

“Louis, that’s terrible,” Sarah simpered from about halfway down the table. “I’m so sorry.”

Louis sent her a thin smile. “Why? You didn’t do it.”

_ But you were going to,  _ Harry heard.  _ There’s no difference between you and the humans that killed my kind.  _

It wasn’t at all was Louis was saying, but Harry could tell he wasn’t the only one who’d interpreted it that way. Several heads bowed in shame, and the silence spread further. 

Louis looked around the room with sad eyes. When he cleared his throat, almost everyone’s heads snapped towards him. Harry took a moment to take note of Ben and Ari’s conspicuous absence, then turned towards Louis as well. 

“Would you like to know my favourite thing about humans?” 

He didn’t speak very loudly, but his questions travelled across the whole room.

Louis continued before anyone could answer. 

“Your music.” He grinned, crinkles appearing by his eyes. “You’ve written all of my favourite songs.”

Niall cheered from the other end of the table. “This mad lad knows  _ Country Roads _ !” 

Louis nodded at him, and Harry wondered again how he could have learned such things. It seemed he was the only one concerned with the details of it; slight chattering erupted as the older inhabitants of the Village started to reminisce about their favourite songs. 

“Do you know any Beatles songs?” Amber asked, putting her spoon back in its bowl. She didn’t wait for Louis to respond before she was already singing, her voice wobbling a little with age. 

_ In the town where I was born,  _ she sang rousingly, and several others joined on. Harry had never heard this one. He leaned forwards curiously, ears straining to catch every word and every note.  _ Lived a man who sailed to sea.  _

Next to him, Louis laughed brightly. He joined in, his voice clear and smooth as it blended with the chorus of the room. 

_ And he told us of his life— _ Harry watched him, the delight on his face, the way he sung this strange song so confidently— _ in the land of submarines— _ and Harry was hit by a wave of irrational jealousy that Louis, a fucking merman, knew more of Harry’s people than he did— _ so we sailed up to the sun— _ but the feeling was gone as quick as it came, replaced by guilt and shame and  _ love,  _ bright love, as he looked around the room and watched his family and Louis sing, knives banging against tables and heads thrown back in laughter— _ till we found a sea of green— _ and he looked at the other young ones in the room, his brothers and sisters who had only known this life, and he saw the same emotion echoed on their faces— _ and we lived beneath the waves— _

Harry smiled. He leant against Louis’ side, and the merman wrapped an arm around his shoulders, still singing all the while, sharing smiles with Harry’s family. 

_ In our yellow submarine. _

 

***

 

“Will you let me show you something?”

The words were whispered against Harry’s neck as Louis pressed closer, the rest of the dining room fading away. It was late now, dessert long gone. There were only a few stragglers left in the room, most of whom were crowded around Louis and had been pestering him with questions about life as a merman. 

Louis had answered as cryptically as could be expected—yes, they had a language; no, he couldn’t speak some it above water; yes, of course they had sex, what a ridiculous question; no, Louis would not describe  _ how— _ but Harry could feel his patience start to wear thin. 

“Of course,” he whispered back, then cleared his throat to get the attention of the table. “Louis and I are going now. Have a nice night, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he announced curtly. 

Louis giggled softly when Harry dragged him to his feet and started shepherding him away from the table. 

“They weren’t  _ that  _ bad,” Louis said, turning so he could walk backwards and take Harry in. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Neither is a mollusk, but you don’t want to stick around one for too long.”

Louis laughed, bright and unabashed. “You would speak like this of your family?”

Louis sidestepped a stray boot someone had left in the hallway expertly, not even glancing at the ground.

Harry shook his head and ignored Louis’ question. He loved his family, of course he did, but it was quite large and quite… varied. People did tend to get on his nerves. 

“You’re really good on those legs,” Harry remarked, taking the opportunity to squint at Louis’ thighs (trapped somewhere behind Harry’s baggy trousers). “Have you had much practice?”

Louis’ eyes narrowed for just a fraction of a second, then he laughed. “There’s no call for your silly flesh sticks in the ocean, Harry. When would I have practiced?”

Evasion: no truth told, but no lies either. Harry wasn’t an idiot. 

But he also wasn’t cruel. 

“Silly flesh sticks are good for lots of things, actually,” Harry sniffed, reaching forwards to swat Louis on the outer thigh. 

Louis stopped moving immediately, hand coming up to press hard against Harry’s and trapping his palm against Louis’ body. Harry stumbled in shock, knocking right into him. 

The dim light of the hallway lights flickered all around them, and Harry counted three breaths right against Louis’ face, Louis’ eyes flickering between his and his fingernails pressed and pressed into the skin of the back of Harry’s hand. 

“What kind of things?” he asked, leaning forwards to nudge his nose against Harry’s cheek. 

Through the haziness and lust and the redness he could feel spreading across his cheeks, Harry managed to produce a rational thought. 

“Louis,” he rasped, licking his lips without consideration of how such an action could be construed in this intimate context. 

Louis’ eyes dropped to track the movement, and he smirked slightly. 

“Louis.” 

Louis met his gaze, sultry and soft, served up right in front of Harry like all of his wildest, most fantastical dreams. 

“Do you even want me?”

Louis frowned, his entire body tensing. He leaned back to study Harry’s face. “What?”

Harry stepped back out of his hold. He’d spent his entire life living on the assumption that he’d never find love for himself, and now here Louis was in front of him, and all he could feel was suspicion and doubt. Of fucking course. He never could have anything nice, anything the sea didn’t eventually take. 

“I said,” he repeated, backing away another step. “Do you even want me?  _ Me?  _ You’re here to—to what, to learn more about humans? And yet you know more about us than I do. You know stories and songs and you’re way fucking better at English than you pretended to be at first.” Louis’ brow pinched, and he reached for Harry, only to be met with empty air. “Tell me I’m wrong.” 

Louis froze for a moment, that unreadable look back on his face, the one Harry hated. Then, his eyes narrowed into slits and his shoulders straightened. 

“You’re really hard to get to know sometimes, you know that, Harry?” 

Harry flinched. “That’s not an answer.”

Louis stalked forwards and rose into his tiptoes, matching Harry in height. Harry hated how cute he found it. 

“Do you think you’ve earned an answer, hm?” Louis asked, faux sweet. “Now come on, asshole. You said you’d let me show you something.”

With that, Louis turned and started marching forwards. Harry stood there stunned (a frequent occurrence in Louis’ company, it seemed), but after Louis sent him an impatient look over his shoulder Harry started trotting after him obediently. 

He hunched in on himself as he walked, crossing his hands across his chest and cursing himself out in his head. Too many hours fiddling with mechanisms and tools had done something to him, it seemed. He couldn’t even be close to someone without his insecurities making an ass out of him. 

He was pulled out of his head when Louis produced a familiar key from his trouser pocket and shoved it in a lock. 

When he pushed the door to the aquarium open, he stood there holding it open for Harry to pass. 

Harry ducked through with a mumbled thanks that Louis ignored. There was still a storm cloud on his face, but it was starting to clear as he stepped into the room behind Harry then locked the door. 

“What is it you want to show me?” Harry asked meekly. Nothing seemed different; the big tank was still there, empty except for the horizon behind it, and the smaller tank still had its marine inhabitants swimming about like nothing at all had changed. 

Louis’ answer came in the form of rustling fabric. Harry’s eyes widened and his back went rigid. He kept his eyes forward, right on the horizon, as Louis’ jumper and trousers and shirt and pants hit the floor behind him. 

“Um,” he choked. “I don’t think–”

“But you do, though,” Louis said, his voice coming from right behind Harry’s shoulder. There was distance between their bodies, but Harry still shivered as if Louis had pressed right up against him. “You think too much.”

Harry scowled, hackles rising. “There’s no such thing.”

Louis snorted, then his naked feet padded around Harry and towards the tank. 

Harry squeezed his eyes shut the second Louis’ lovely,  _ lovely  _ ass was in his field of vision, but he was peeking a second later, and he’d given up not staring a second after that. Louis didn’t pay him any attention as he walked up to the tank then hoisted himself into it with one seamless movement. 

Harry flinched at the loud  _ splash  _ of water against the wooden floor. Louis settled down to the bottom of the tank, lying along the base with his hands behind his head like he was stretching out after a long day. Harry hadn’t realised he’d started holding his breath the second Louis had entered the tank, but his burning lungs announced themselves before long. 

He’d just sucked in a breath when Louis turned his head to stare right at him. Harry took a step forwards on instinct, transfixed by the sight before him. One by one, small gills started to appear on Louis’ chest, his skin fluttering open like they’d simply always been there. Small scales appeared out of the v of his hips, and between one moment and the next his beautiful thighs were swallowed in shimmering blue scales; Louis’ tail was pushing itself free of his body. The sight was as grotesque as it was hypnotising. Harry’s legs tingled with sympathetic sensation as the scales traveled down, down, all the way down, until the nub of his fin appeared where his feet once were and unfurled into a beautiful fluttering masterpiece. 

And all the while Louis stared. There was a heaviness in his gaze, like he was daring Harry to understand something. 

But in that moment, Harry felt like he’d never understood anything in his entire life. 

He took the final few steps towards the tank and rested his hands along the lip of the glass. 

Pensively, he pressed his palm to the water in the tank, testing the surface tension, careful to keep the balance. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, flicking his eyes to Louis’ then away again. “You’re right. Why are you always right?” He laughed sadly. 

Swiftly, with all the grace of a shark or a bird, Louis reached up to grasp onto Harry’s hand. Between one moment and the next, Harry was pulled into the tank. Harry struggled a little at first, an instinct triggered by the sudden rush of cold water across his body and the harsh grip Louis had on his hand, then Louis’ strong arms wrapped around him, binding him, holding him fast. 

Harry’s eyes stung with the effort of keeping them open, but he daren’t close them. He was too busy taking Louis in in the water, as he was made to be seen. Louis smiled and pressed their bodies closer, and Harry didn’t freeze up or throw accusations this time. 

He simply closed his eyes and let Louis kiss him so sweetly as he ran his webbed fingers up and down Harry’s back underneath his threadbare shirt. 

Harry breathed him in, the smell of him so sharp in the water that it burned the back of his mouth. But the feeling was gone in his next breath, and–

_ What? _

He reared backwards, panting  _ somehow  _ and swallowing a mouth full of gross tank water. He started choking, but urgent hands pressed against his chest and face. He heard something—music, almost, a melody that pierced through his panic. He looked down at Louis with wild eyes and saw him looking back apologetically. 

Harry took another breath in. Not the same as before—he knew now not to use his mouth—and he didn’t know  _ how  _ he was breathing, but he didn’t have to now. His body knew for him. 

Louis’ hand smoothed across his chest and his fingers caught on the edge of something. Harry ripped his shirt up and twisted so he could see–there! Three neat lines on either side of his abdomen. 

_ Gills.  _

Harry stared at them in horror for a moment. The melody in his ears turned plaintive, and he looked up to glare at Louis. 

Louis shrunk back a little, then glared back. 

Harry pushed himself up and up until his head breached the top of the tank and he could breathe  _ normally  _ again. He pushed his hair away from his face angrily. 

Louis shifted in the tank slowly, like he was trying not to spook him. He lifted himself up like Harry had done, one inch at a time. He stopped once his eyes were poking out of the water; two baby blues staring Harry down, expression in them split halfway between defensive and needy. 

“What the fuck, Louis,” Harry muttered. He tore his soaking shirt from his body and let it drop to the floor outside the tank with a wet slap. 

Louis didn’t say anything. Harry frowned at him. Experimentally, he dunked his head back under the water. The second he did that same music filled his brain, almost a cacophony. 

Harry pulled his head back up. “I can’t understand you. You know that, right?”

Louis rolled his eyes. He reached a hand up to Harry’s chest, and Harry let him. His fingers danced across the edge of the gills. Something like delight took root in his eyes. 

“Am I going to grow a tail?” Harry asked impatiently. 

Finally, Louis raised himself up enough to speak. “Not if I don’t want you to,” he said softly. “And I can make them go away, too.” Louis laughed, nothing more than an exclamation of breath. “I didn’t think it would work. I’ve never done that before to anyone.”

Harry pushed into his space, gripping Louis by the scaly hips so he couldn’t wriggle away as easily. “But you knew what you were doing, yeah? You had to.”

Louis’ breath caught. “Perhaps.”

“And you didn’t tell me.” 

Louis looked at the horizon. 

Harry pulled him closer. “Kind of a shitty thing to do,” he said. 

Louis shrugged, but he still wouldn’t meet Harry’s gaze. “It was a spur of the moment decision.”

Harry nudged his nose against Louis’ jaw, then kissed his neck softly. He felt the  gills on his chest fluttered as he took a deep breath in. Now that he’d gotten over the shock of it, it was kind of… nice. 

“Next time you feel like being spontaneous,” he mumbled, right against Louis’ pulse point just to feel it jump, “Will you warn me? Please.”

Louis tried to nod, but it turned into a choked whimpering noise when Harry sunk his teeth into Louis’ neck. Just a nip, really; hardly a proper bite. He pressed a kiss the the reddening skin as an apology. 

“You’ve got  _ bite  _ for someone who thinks I don’t want them,” Louis rumbled.

Harry hummed. “Think I’ve changed my mind on that one.”

 

***

 

It only took Louis smoothing a hand down Harry’s torso and a flash of the lights in his tail for the gills on Harry’s chest to disappear. 

In the end, they were easier to get rid of than the water on their skin. They  dripped all over the place on the way to Harry’s bedroom, then collapsed onto Harry’s sheets with a giggle. 

Harry settled in then turned to study Louis, travel his eyes down his body to the legs he’d watched him grow a moment ago. As usual, he had a million questions. And, as usual, he asked only one of them. 

“Can you do that to anybody?”

Louis shuffled closer towards him, pulling the blanket over both of their heads. Then, for good measure, he slung one of his legs across Harry’s waist and laid his head on his chest. 

Harry smiled and folded an arm around his waist. 

Louis took another beat to answer, already half asleep. Harry was right there with him. 

“Yes.”

 

***

 

This time, Harry didn’t wake up alone. 

He almost wished he did for a moment, mind still bleary from a water-filled dream and greeted by an impatient pressing from his bladder, but then he opened his eyes and he got to see Louis’ face smushed against the pillow Harry had slept on his entire life. He got to see the marks on his cheek from the creases on the pillowcase, got to see his hair all mussed up from sleep. It was definitely worth it. 

“Good morning.” Harry shifted so he was lying on his side facing Louis, and Louis frowned in his sleep in response. 

“Fuck off,” he said, burrowing further into the pillow (and Harry’s chest). 

Harry laughed. “Well, alright,” he joked, pushing himself up and out of the bed. 

He was met with a mournful sound. He turned back to the bed with a smile on his face. 

His smile died the second he caught sight of the view from his window. 

It was the same ocean as always—that wasn’t ever going to change—but the horizon was interrupted by a gigantic ship. It was all rusting metal, smoke billowing out, red and brown and grey, the tanker–

Fuck. The tanker. 

It was here. 

And it was voting day. 

“Louis, I think you should wake up,” he said, voice low. 

Louis sat up immediately and followed Harry’s gaze. 

“Charming,” he mumbled, throwing himself out of bed and storming towards Harry’s chest of drawers. “My boat’s arrived.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Harry hissed, fisting a handful of his hair. “If I lose today, Ben’s sending you over there— _ fuck,  _ why didn’t you just leave when I told you to?” 

Louis pulled on a jumper and some of Harry’s pants. He ignored Harry (and his pacing, and nervous twitching) for as long at it took for him to roll up his sleeves and trouser legs. As much as Harry appreciated not being deprived of the view of those delicate ankles and wrists, he was sort of, kind of, maybe, freaking out. 

“Harry,” Louis soothed. “Get dressed.”

Harry clenched his jaw but moved to obey. He was glad Louis hadn’t tried to comfort him with any false promises.

Once they were both ready, they made their way towards the Iron Room. 

There were only a few people inside so early in the morning. Niall and Zayn were setting up the voting boxes, Sarah was chatting to them while standing over a bag of dried beans, and Ben was standing in the corner speaking with Adam and Ari in hushed tones. Everyone looked up when they walked in, and it was an even split of smiles and frowns. 

“Harry! Louis! How’s it going,” Niall greeted. “Come check out our set up.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Are these the democracy beans?” he asked, pointing to Sarah’s bag. 

She laughed and nodded. “In a way, yes. We figured it was the easiest and least wasteful way to collect the votes. One bean per person, and then we get to eat them later!” 

She reached down and pulled out two beans then offered them to Harry and Louis with a hopeful smile. 

“Oh!” Harry said, while at the same time Louis asked, “I get one?” 

Harry sent Louis a sidelong glance and saw he was staring at the beans in Sarah’s palm with wonder. 

“Come on, Sarah, he shouldn’t get to vote. He’s not one of us,” Ben sneered, appearing over Sarah’s shoulder. 

Louis snatched the beans from her palm before anyone could blink. He handed one to Harry then dropped his own in the box marked  _ Harry Styles  _ whilst making meaningful eye contact with Ben. 

Harry’s heart swelled with—well. Something he couldn’t name. Whatever it was, it was loud and full. He followed Louis’ lead and placed his bean in his own box. 

“What a turn out,” Niall deadpanned. “Two whole voters. We did it, kids.”

Zayn elbowed him. Niall darted across to kiss his cheek. 

“Come, now, boys. Everyone’s still at breakfast.”

Adam crossed his arms. “Or, they’re all at a window staring at our saviour and changing their minds about being altruistic morons.” Sarah shrunk a little, and Adam’s eyes flashed with guilt. He turned to Louis and Harry. “This isn’t personal, you know that, right?”

Louis looked him up and down. “Of course not. You’re doing what you think is best,” he replied. Somehow he made it sound like both a compliment and a cutting insult. 

Adam blinked a few times, then turned back to the conversation between Ari and Ben. 

Harry tugged on Louis’ hand, pulling him towards the other end of the room. 

“I don’t know if I can just stand here all day while this happens,” he whispered. A few more people trickled in, and Ben was there to shake their hand and offer them a smile.

_ It’s me, the man you’ve known and trusted for twenty years,  _ his grin said.  _ I’m just trying to help.  _

Louis nodded next to him. “I know. But I think you have to.”

“Why are you  _ always  _ right?” Harry grumbled. Louis flashed a toothy grin at him then pushed him back towards the fray. More and more people were starting to stream in, and Harry had to work quickly to paint a friendly smile on his face. 

“Just relax,” Louis whispered, standing on his tiptoes to speak into Harry’s ear. He soothed a hand down Harry’s back. 

“You’re so calm about this,” he bit out through his smile. “Hi! Good morning!”

Louis laughed softly. “Because I know you’ll win.” 

With that he slunk away, moving to stand beside Niall and Zayn as they distributed the beans. 

Ben turned to scan the room and a constipated look passed over his face when he saw how involved Louis and Harry were making themselves. Harry smiled at him, secure in the knowledge that he wasn’t going to try anything. 

At least, not until the voting was finished. 

Because Harry, unlike Louis, knew Ben Winston. It wasn’t that he didn’t think he would win this election: it was that he knew it might not matter if he did. 

That was a problem for tomorrow. Today was a day for smiling and shaking hands and trying his best not to sneak a peek at what box everyone he’d ever known was placing their bean in. 

It was an excruciating hour or so. By the time Perrie stumbled in to accept the very last bean—half-asleep from a long day of fishing yesterday—Harry’s cheeks were hurting from the effort of keeping his smile and Louis was nodding off against his shoulder. 

“Oh, am I last?” she asked around a yawn. 

Ben jumped in, patting her on the shoulder and steering her towards Sarah, Niall, and Zayn. “Lucky last! Make sure your vote counts.” 

Perrie nodded and took the bean. She stared at it thoughtfully for a moment, then her gaze travelled up towards Louis. 

Harry saw the same thing in her gaze as he did yesterday—guilt, perhaps. After all, she was the one who had harpooned him. Her lips pinched for a moment, then she strode over to the boxes. Harry averted his eyes as he’d been doing all day, but Ben stared after her unabashedly. 

That was how Harry knew how Perrie voted; not because he looked, but because he saw the annoyance that flickered on Ben’s face before it was swallowed up by his friendly facade. 

Harry had bought that facade, once. His parents had, too. Or, if they hadn’t, then they weren’t the people Harry knew them to be. 

“Lovely!” Ben exclaimed. He clapped his hands together, causing Louis to jolt awake. “Time to get counting, then?” 

He took a step forwards only to be blocked by Niall’s arm. 

“Yes, I think so,” Niall said pleasantly. Anyone who know him (and everyone here did) was able to hear the razor edge to his tone, however.   
  
Ben threw his hands up in surrender. “Shows me for trying to be helpful,” he joked. He pointed at Harry and Louis. “If I’m not allowed to lend a hand, they better not be as well.”

Zayn nodded. “Of course.” He sent a significant their way. Louis waved at him jauntily then started tugging Harry out of the room. 

“Come on,” he mumbled.  
  
Harry nodded and stumbled after him. 

 

***

 

They were sitting on the rooftop in amongst the peach trees, huddled together to keep warm in the wind, juice dripping down their faces as they ate and neither much caring. They’d sat facing the tanker, because Harry knew if he tried anything other than that that his skin would itch too much. That was why, when a small rowboat was launched off the side and four dots inside started paddling over to the Village, they were the first to see. 

 

 

***

 

Everyone was already gathering in the Iron Room when Harry and Louis sprinted in.

“The ship is sending a boat out,” Harry panted, making sure to both address the whole room and keep his eyes square on Ben. 

Ben smiled toothily. “Are they?”

Harry growled, but Louis patted him on the shoulder to calm him. 

The rest of the Village didn’t move to interfere. In fact, none of them would look at Harry. It shocked Harry out of his rage, and he turned to study his family. 

“What’s happened?”

Niall cleared his throat. He was leaning against the table the voting boxed had been on, but it was empty now. 

“We’re done counting,” he said. “We were just about to call you down to announce it.”

Harry’s stomach fell. “O-okay? Well, who won?”

Niall didn’t even bother making an official statement. He didn’t get up to the front of the room and call a meeting like anyone else would have done. 

He just looked at Harry—finally meeting his eyes—and shook his head. 

“No.” Harry backed away towards the door, tugging a confused Louis behind him. 

“What? Who won?” Louis hissed, gaze flicking around the room. 

Harry laughed brokenly. “Ben.”

Sarah stepped forwards and reached a hand out to Harry. “Don’t take it personally, Harry. They all love you! But Tom–”

“I told them this morning. About the generator.” Tom clenched his jaw and looked Harry square in the eyes. “As far as I can tell, one of you’s got a plan to keep us all from fucking  _ dying. _ ”

Harry shook his head. “We could’ve thought of something else,  _ anything  _ else–”

Ben tutted. “Harry, just because you’re letting that  _ thing  _ into your bed doesn’t mean the rest of us should pay for it.”

Adam advanced towards them, and Harry didn’t like the determination he saw in his face. 

Ben kept going. “Be reasonable for once, will you? We’re doing this for all of us, and that includes you. Just give him over and no one has to get hurt.” 

Louis’ hand started vibrating in Harrys, and Harry spared him a glance. He was shaking with anger, a low growling noise coming from his chest. Harry looked back at his family and all he saw were strangers. Strangers who had smiled at him and shook his hand earlier today, all while they were chosing to condemn Louis. There was no telling what the tanker would do to him—a ship like that might have a lab or medical supplies, they could  _ cut him open,  _ and Harry’s family had sung with him last night and talked with him and had seen how fucking wonderful he was and still. Still, they’d chosen themselves. 

“You’re all making a huge mistake,” he warned. 

Adam took another step forwards. 

Harry turned and ran. Louis stumbled behind him then found his footing, and together they sprinted down the hallway. No one chased them for a moment, then the sound of pounding feet started gaining on them. 

“In here!” 

Louis tugged Harry into the aquarium and Harry slammed the door shut behind him, fingers shaking as he struggled to pull the key from his pocket to get it locked in time. 

The mechanism clicked shut just when the handle started to jiggle. 

Harry backed away from it. Louis stayed, arms crossed as he listened to a shoulder bash against the wood on the other side of the door. 

_ Bang. Bang. Bang.  _

It wouldn’t hold long against a group of sixty determined people. 

“Louis, I’m–”

“Save it.”

Harry stared at Louis’ rigid shoulders in shock. He didn’t want to say  _ I told you this would happen,  _ because it was both a very unhelpful thing to say and, quite frankly, he  _ didn’t  _ know this would happen. Even with all his pessimism and doubts, he was still shocked to find out what the people he’d grown up with were willing to do just to survive. 

_ Bang, bang, bang.  _

Louis laughed. 

He turned. “My mother was right about you.”

Harry frowned, but Louis wasn’t done. He stalked towards Harry, words spitting from his mouth like poison. “She said I shouldn’t bother trying to help humans, that they’d killed us before and they’d do it again without a thought.  _ Louis, you have a kind heart,  _ she said,  _ but they’ll rip it from your chest if you’re not careful.  _ But I watched you! Your friends on the island, your friends in boats across the sea, for years all I’ve done is watch you. And you’re all so—” he fisted his hands in his hair in frustration, “—so arrogant and charming and stupid and loving, I don’t  _ understand  _ you. When I found this place, I thought I’d finally get my shot. You’re all so unhappy here and you can’t even see it! I just want to help, I can  _ help,  _ you could all be free if you’d just let me. There’s so much ocean, there’s enough for all of us, and I know I can change you all, I did it to  _ you,  _ but…”

A tear leaked down Louis’ cheek, but Harry was too stunned to wipe it away for him. Louis did it for him a moment later, looking to the tank over Harry’s shoulder. 

_ Bang. Bang. Bang.  _

“You’re monsters. You did this—” he waved out at the horizon at the endless sea, “—to yourselves! You did this to yourselves.” His shoulders sagged. “I don’t know why I even tried.”

Harry swallowed, but his mouth stayed dry. “What,” he whispered. Louis didn’t even look at him. “What about me?”

Louis closed his eyes. “I don’t know, Harry,” he answered. “You deserve better than what you’ve got here, but I know you’d never leave them, and I won’t ask you to.”

Harry stared at the wood beneath Louis’ bare feet. 

The banging had stopped, replaced with shouting and swearing.

Harry turned around sharply and stalked towards the tank. He stared at it sadly for a moment, then brought his boot up to give it a forceful kick right in the centre. It shifted backwards, closer to the edge of the room and to the opening. 

“Harry?”

Harry kicked it again, ignoring the sloshing, angry water inside as it splashed all over him and the floor. The tank was teetering just on the edge, one more shove and—

Gone. Sixty feet down and to the bottom of the ocean. Harry’s chest heaved as he watched it fall. 

“Harry!”   


Harry turned. “Ask me to leave them.” 

Louis shook his head. 

“Ask,” Harry growled. 

Louis paused. He shot a glance over his shoulder at the door and when he looked back at Harry his face was set. “Harry. Will you come with me?”

Harry offered his hands as a gentle smile bloomed across his face. Even in all this madness, he still smiled for Louis. “Yes.”

Louis took his hands with a dazed look on his face. 

Harry dragged him closer, pulled him right against his chest, and stepped backwards off the edge.

Louis gasped as they fell, clinging to Harry, wriggling his hands underneath his shirt. Harry squeezed his eyes shut against the wind rushed past his body. He tried to straighten them out so they’d hit the waves in a less painful way, but everything was upside down and right way up and he didn’t know if it worked. Louis’ fingers were as cold as the air against his stomach, pressing so hard they might bruise. Any second now. Any second. 

_ Splash.  _

Harry struggled the second they hit the water. Louis held him fast, but Harry’s skin felt strange, like the water was seeping through his pores, a million tiny pins. He tried to break away and head for the surface—it was the only thing he could see in all the black-blue—but Louis wouldn’t let go. He was too busy tugging at Harry’s clothes. 

A second later, Harry heaved a breath in and he realised why. He squeezed his eyes shut and just breathed. He felt it the moment Louis pulled the last item of clothing he was wearing—his shirt—over his head. He was warmer now than he remembered ever being in the Village, and the water met his skin like an old friend. He breathed deeply, enjoying the fresh taste of it—much better than the tank.

He opened his eyes. 

Louis was before him, watching him with a stricken expression. His tail swished through the water easily, graceful as always. The little lights along it lit up his face. 

They lit up Harry’s body, too. 

Harry looked down. The gills on his chest were at least a little familiar, but the scales poking out of him were decidedly not. He ran a finger over them—sharper nails, longer webbing—and found them just as soft as Louis’, cool to the touch and happy to be so. His tail was longer than Louis’, shining and green to match his blue. 

_ Nnnnnnnnnnnnn,  _ he heard, a long sad note that echoed in his ears somehow.  _ Nrrrnniillllll.  _

Harry twisted his tail and flipped his fin. It carried him over to Louis, but he had to grab his shoulders to keep from hurtling past. Needless to say, he hadn’t figured out how to use his new tail yet. 

Louis caught him around the waist. He held them together gently, so gently. He tried to smile, but Harry could tell he was a moment away from crying. He mouthed something to Harry—what Harry assumed he’d just said in his own language.  _ You’re beautiful. _

Harry frowned, looking over Louis for something he’d missed, something to explain why he was so sad all of a sudden. He searched Louis’ eyes, but all he found was disbelief and a touch of guilt. 

Harry opened his mouth to ask—or, try to ask—but Louis shook his head. He tried to smile again, and Harry almost believed it. He leant forwards slowly—slow enough for Louis to pull away, if he wanted—and pressed their lips together in a kiss. It was awkward at first—underwater kisses presented a unique challenge—but Louis pressed them together and kissed back. Harry wrapped his tail around Louis’, getting lost in the feel of him, of them together like this. 

_ Nrrrnniilllll,  _ he tried to say, sounds coming from his chest clumsy and too loud. 

It was worth it for the way Louis laughed softly against his lips and made that purring noise Harry loved so much. Still, though, the sadness wouldn’t leave his eyes. 

 

***

 

It was hard to communicate underwater. Louis relied upon his native tongue more often than not, and Harry did his best to try and translate it, but mostly he got by with hand gestures and expressions. 

Louis told him—without as many words—that he had something to show Harry. His expression said it wasn’t going to be something Harry would like. So, they swum down. 

And down. 

And down. 

Louis’ tail (and Harry’s, once he figured out how to make it work) was the only light source. Harry squinted into the blackness at the shapes below, trying to make sense of them. Then, something metal reared up out of the darkness as he glided past. Harry flinched back and stopped. It was a cross, rusting and huge. He darted a little closer so he could press his fingers against it and imagine which of his ancestors had built such a thing. 

Louis made a curious noise. He swam back over to him.

Harry shook his head and let Louis take his hand and pull him further towards the ocean floor. 

The deeper they went, the more buildings they found. Glass and metal and concrete, materials he’d only ever seen in small amounts, were littered everywhere. Fish darted in and out of empty doorways, and paper was peeling off the walls inside every home to reveal sea moss growing. It was as eerie as it was beautiful. Harry took in every moment of it with wide eyes and a racing heart, but Louis seemed impatient to show him something in particular. 

He stopped them both after a while, right in the middle of the street. Harry stared at a lamp overhead and marvelled at the technology of this lost civilisation. They had enough power to provide for this entire city, enough resources to make every car and every building they’d swum past. 

Not that any of it had saved them, in the end. 

Louis tugged on his hand until Harry turned to face him. 

He had a conflicted look on his face. Harry tilted his head to the side. 

_ Mmmmmiaaaannnnnnn,  _ Louis sang, gaze shifting over to something in the shadows. 

Harry didn’t know what it meant. He moved closer and let go of Louis’ hand so he could frame his face. 

Louis closed his eyes and smiled sadly. He pressed a soft kiss to Harry’s palm, then pulled away and started swimming towards the object he’d been looking at. 

Harry hung back for a moment to watch. The light from Louis’ tail dappled through the water, diffusing until it hit a familiar wooden shape. Harry narrowed his eyes—why did he recognise it?

A moment later, he knew why. The wooden shape revealed itself to be the hull of a yacht—the very same one his parents had left with the last time he’d seen them. And that was six months ago. 

Louis was floating next to it with his arms furled across his chest and his head bowed. 

Harry spared him a glance, then swam closer. There was no damage to the yacht that he could see; the cabin was intact, the hull was without a scratch. It had a build up of sediment all over it from being down here all this time, but the metal parts still gleamed in the light. 

Harry darted inside, eyes searching frantically. He found nothing—of course he found nothing,  _ of course _ . Every step closer to answers, and still he was left in the dark. 

He gripped the wheel just for something to hold on to as his eyes scanned over the familiar inside of the cabin. Looking over his shoulder, he spotted the hatch that led to the bunk underneath. Barely room for two people, but his parents always said they didn’t mind it. Harry swam into it, pulling his way through the hatch. 

There were still sheets on the bed. There was still a mug floating on the small table next to a string made of shells and seaweed that he didn’t recognise that was organised into a spiral. 

Harry didn’t spare it much thought after he spotted a map. He picked it up and studied it. He remembered it vaguely—his parents had insisted on making a map of the area surrounding the Village for navigational purposes, and it was mostly only used by the fishing crew. It was drawn carefully onto a repurposed square of denim, made to be easily stored and survive getting a little wet. The Village was at the centre, a rectangle with six legs. 

Harry left the map on the desk and went to find Louis.

He was floating right where Harry had left him. His head snapped up once Harry started swimming towards him, and he still had that same stricken expression on his face. 

Harry stopped a metre away from him and studied him. He had no idea what he was feeling. Everything was a fucking mess. Louis had known that his parents were dead before they’d even met? He’d, what, stumbled across a map and decided to follow it? He’d laid in Harry’s bed, he’d  _ kissed  _ him, all the while knowing exactly where Anne and Robin Styles had lost their lives. 

Harry thought he’d found the last of Louis’ secrets. What a fool he’d been. 

Louis reached out for him, sad music piercing through the fog of grief and anger in Harry’s brain. 

Harry backed away, tail working too fast. He knocked into the side of the yacht in his clumsiness and a stray splinter of wood punctured his arm. He hissed and brought it up to look at, but the wound was already closing on its own. 

If anything, that just made him more angry. 

Louis made to move towards him again, but Harry was faster. He turned and swam, not caring if he knew where he was going. 

He just needed a moment to himself, a moment to think. He couldn’t trust his family to save an innocent life, and he couldn’t trust that life to be so innocent. 

Maybe there weren’t any right answers. 


	4. I Know There Won't Be Time For All of Us

 

Harry didn’t know how long it had been. An hour, maybe two, maybe three. He’d found what he guessed was a school, once. He was sitting on a metal frame, a sort of horizontal ladder on legs that he’d spent a few minutes pondering the function of. There were other constructions around him—a play area for the little children who had once come here. 

Harry traced the pattern of swirling lights on his tail for the hundredth time, then closed his eyes. 

As soon as it had felt like he could breathe again, he’d regretted running away. That’s what he always did, wasn’t it? The second anything got hard, he locked himself in his workroom or he jumped off the only home he’d ever known with a merman he’d met last week. 

It had seemed like the only sane thing at the time, but even Harry could admit he wasn’t exactly a poster boy for sanity. 

And yet, his people had wanted him to lead. Or, some of them had. His parents had never wanted that for him. They never tried to let him in on their secret meetings, their negotiations with The Island, their trades with passing ships. It had always been,  _ fix this, Harry,  _ or,  _ can you make this better, Harry?  _ Ever since he’d shown an interest in tools. They’d loved him—oh, how they’d loved him—but they hadn’t trusted him, not with leadership. 

Louis hadn’t ever asked him to fix anything. He hadn’t ever asked him to be anything he didn’t want to be. He’d just believed in him— _ you are a good leader,  _ and  _ I know you’ll win.  _ That belief might have been unfounded, but it was there. Even through all the things he hadn’t said, it was there.

Harry opened his eyes. 

A trail of lights flashed by in the distance. Harry watched it dart from building to building, efficient and a little panicked. 

Harry took a deep breath in. He swam towards it. 

The second Louis caught sight of Harry, he stopped. 

Harry kept swimming towards him, but he slowed a little the closer he got. Louis was holding on to a lamp post, nails almost digging in to the metal as he watched Harry approach. He had that unreadable look on his face again, but Harry understood what it meant now. 

Harry stopped just before him, tail swishing a little to keep him afloat. Louis let out a single note—piercing, haunting—then bit his lip. 

Harry waited. He kept his gaze even and his body language open. 

Louis reached for him, like he’d done before. Harry reached back, and their hands tangled in the water between them. 

Louis looked cautiously hopeful. Harry squeezed his fingers until the caution melted away. 

They started swimming. Louis led the way, pulling Harry in the right direction every so often. They were headed upwards, but not in a straight line. After a few minutes, the streets and houses phased back into the darkness. Harry watched them go. 

Eventually, the buildings started to reappear. They were few and far between, stretches of coral reef taking over the space where Harry imagined trees and plants once were. The ocean was still the same distance overhead—perhaps the buildings were on a mountain; he knew there used to be those. They reached an opening in the earth that revealed itself to be the mouth of a cave. Louis led them towards it and together they swum up a passage until, suddenly, there was air. 

Harry gasped through his mouth, filling his lungs for the first time in hours. He looked around the cave and found it to be a lovely little thing, about the size of his bedroom. There was a sandy beach in one half and an opening above. Harry tilted his head back and saw the night sky. He’d been down there so long he hadn’t even realised the sun had set. 

He let go of Louis’ hand so he could float on his back and look up at the stars. The cave was quiet for a moment. The only sounds were soft waves hitting the sand and Louis’ quiet breaths next to him. 

Harry turned his head to look at Louis, sitting further up the sand, tail folded up to his chest and arms crossed on top. He was resting his chin on his forearm and he was staring right at Harry. A soft breeze shifted a few strands of his dripping hair. He didn’t shiver. 

“Where are we?”

It felt strange to break the silence, but Harry was a curious man. The things he didn’t know—and there was a lot he didn’t know, apparently—were a constant itch at the front of his mind. 

Louis waited a beat before answering. “You call it The Island, I think.”

Harry sat up slowly. He leant his weight on his right hand, twisting his body to look at Louis. 

“I’ve never actually been here before,” he said. He looked through the hole in the roof again, but the stars still looked the same. 

“I come here all the time.” Louis lowered his gaze to the sand by his fin, and the moon cast his eyelashes in devastating shadow. “My family has been in this area for a few years.”

Harry nodded. He let the silence build up again, let it fester and rot until—

“I gave them a proper burial, you know,” Louis burst. He looked up at Harry fiercely. “I laid their bodies to rest.”

Harry shifted closer. “That spiral in the cabin? Made of seashells and seaweed?”

Louis nodded. “It’s called a—um. I only know it as  _ hhhhhhhhillnrrr.  _ It’s to honour their sacrifice.” He blinked a few times. His voice was soft, almost emotionless. “I’d never made one before. We don’t really… die. Not as much as humans do.”

Harry cleared his throat and blinked away tears. “Can you—um. Can you tell me what happened? The truth, please.”

Louis nodded. “I remember a storm. My family and I kept ourselves safe and out of the way, like we normally do, and then it was gone again. I was exploring your city–”

“S’not mine,” Harry mumbled. 

Louis shot him a look. “ _ Your  _ city, when I found it. Two humans, one boat, one map. My mother told me not to go, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wanted to know where they’d come from. You’re fascinating, you know? I don’t understand you at all.” 

_ I can relate,  _ Harry thought. 

Louis uncurled his tail and pushed himself across the sand closer to Harry. “I’ve read so many of your books, and I’ve studied so many of your machines, and I still have no idea why you are the way you are.” Louis laughed, a small sound. “I know you don’t either.”

Harry shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell me about them?”

Louis averted his gaze, shoulders hunching. “At first it was because I didn’t know they were your parents, but then I saw your room. There’s a picture of them on your chest of drawers, when they were younger. After that, it was because…” Louis closed his eyes. The next part came like it was torn from his chest; a brutal confession. “It was because I was starting to know you, and you were starting to know me, and I didn’t want to ruin that. I didn’t want you to think–”

“Think what?” Harry interrupted, hints of bitterness seeping into his voice without his consent. “That you were someone who would hide something like that?” 

Louis turned to face him, jaw set. “Yes. And I was going to tell you eventually, and you would be so betrayed that you’d send me away, and then you’d have all of your family to love you like you deserve, and you’d forget about me.” He leant forwards into Harry’s space. “But then you  _ had  _ to go and choose me. You–” his face pinched. “You weren’t supposed to do that.”

“Why not?” Harry hissed. “Aren’t you worth choosing?” 

“No!” Louis yelled, throwing his hands in the air. “Of course not!”

Harry reared back like he’d been slapped. 

Louis watched him with wide-eyes, then rushed to explain. “No, don’t look at me like that, Harry, I just meant—you didn’t have to give them up, you  _ don’t  _ have to, I’ll take you back right now if you want—they’re your  _ family–” _

Harry’d heard enough. He pushed himself off the sand, slamming his body into Louis and taking them both down. He cradled Louis’ head so it wouldn’t bang against the sand too harshly. 

“Louis,” he panted, holding himself above the wide-eyed merman with his elbows. The water lapped against their chests, and Harry’s tail was warm where it pressed against Louis’. “Why did you come back after I set you free? Why did you kiss me?” 

_ Because I wanted to.  _

Louis opened his mouth, but Harry shook his head. “There’s more to it than that.”

Louis relaxed beneath him. There was a difference this time when he spoke; his voice was on the edge of breaking, but it was still so soft. “Every single person in that village looked at me, Harry. Every single one. And you were the only one to look at me as their equal. Before I ever spoke to you, you respected me. It might seem unimportant to you, but. After everything I’d been told about humans—everything I refused to believe—you were the only one to prove me right.” 

“Right about what?” Harry pushed, because he thought he knew but he still needed Louis to say it. 

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and pulled him closer. “That humans are capable of love. That you’re worth saving.”

Harry rested his forehead against Louis’ and sighed. 

It was silent for a minute, then Harry spoke. “I have to go back.”

Louis tensed beneath him. Harry kissed his cheek softly. “Not forever. I just—you’re right. They’re worth saving. I can’t leave them to die.”

Louis still looked conflicted. His fingers tapped a rhythm against Harry’s skin. “I might have something for that.”  Harry made to pull away, but Louis held him fast. “Tomorrow. It can wait until tomorrow. You’re exhausted, Harry; you need to sleep.”

Harry frowned. Louis was right; he’d been swimming for hours and his body wasn’t used to it. He hadn’t realised how tired he was, too caught up in the heavy emotions of the day.

“Fine,” he moaned, collapsing on the sand next to Louis dramatically. 

He was rewarded with Louis’ soft giggle. 

They curled up in the water together, Harry’s back pressed against the rock of the cave and Louis bundled up in his arms. He rested his head against Harry’s chest and traced a pattern on his skin. 

Just when Harry was on the edge of sleep, Louis shifted in his hold. He darted up to pressed a soft, lingering kiss against Harry’s lips. Harry melted into it then looked up at Louis with a question in his eyes when he pulled away. 

“Thank you,” Louis whispered. 

Harry nodded, even though he didn’t know what Louis was thanking him for. Louis settled back into Harry’s arms, and the soft sounds of the waves lapping against the sand lulled Harry to sleep. 

 

***

 

Harry didn’t often dream, but that night he dreamt of rolling waves, soft touches, and peaches. 

He woke to find Louis still in his arms. 

“I’m glad you’re real,” he murmured, one foot still in his dream. 

Louis made an annoyed little sound against him then wriggled closer. “Real and sleeping,” he grit out of the corner of his mouth. 

“That’s nice,” Harry replied. He blinked a few times, wincing as the sunlight burned his eyes. “How’s that going?” 

Louis poked him in the stomach. Harry curled in on himself and giggled. Louis peeked at him from behind his soft fringe, a smile curling up his lips. 

There was something about the cave in the morning—the soft rays of light floating through the roof, the almost-clear water, the sparkling sand—that made Harry forget he had any reason to be sad. Right then he had Louis smiling at him and he was blissfully happy. 

“It  _ was  _ going lovely, thank you,” Louis answered. He stretched out on the sand and groaned. “You’re not as comfortable as you look.”

Harry folded his hands on Louis’ chest, rested his chin on them, and pouted. Louis flicked his gaze down to him for just a moment then steadfastly stared up at the blue sky instead. 

After a few more moments, he looked back at Harry. “Stop pouting,” he hissed. He scratched at Harry’s love handles with his sharp nails carefully. It worked; Harry stopped pouting. He hid his face in his arms instead. 

“What?” Louis asked, stilling. 

Harry shook his head. 

“Harry?”

Harry sighed. He lifted his head again to find Louis staring at him in concern. “Nothing,” he said. 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Sure, alright. ‘Nothing’.” 

Harry pushed himself upright. “Well, it’s just. Ireallylikedthat,” he rushed out. 

Louis moved to rest on his elbows. “Really?” he asked, a little breathless. Then, a smirk took over. “I can do it again, if you like.”

Harry pushed him on the shoulder, and Louis laughed. The sound filled the cave. Harry closed his eyes for a moment as he listened to it echo. 

Then, everything came flooding back to him. It was like a door in his mind he’d shoved everything behind until he was awake enough to deal with it again. Now that it was wide open, even the sunny cave had lost its glow. 

He sighed and looked down at Louis. He seemed to sense the shift in Harry. He sat up and frowned. 

“You said last night that you might have something that can help them, right?” Harry asked reluctantly. “Can you show me?”

Louis looked saddened by the request (Harry related—he didn’t want to leave their bubble either) but he nodded nonetheless. 

“Yeah, um. It’s just a short swim away. It’s–” he faltered. “It’s with my family.”

Harry studied his face. “Would you let me meet them?”

Louis’ brow pinched. “Of course. They don’t really know your words, though, so…”

“No asking for your embarrassing baby stories? Damn,” Harry tried to joke. 

Louis smiled like he appreciated the effort. “Exactly. Can’t have those.”

Harry pressed close to Louis so he could whisper in his ear. “I’ll get them out of you eventually.” 

Louis shuddered then pushed him away. “I doubt that,” he croaked. “Now come on, I’ll catch you something to eat along the way.”

Harry paled. 

_ Surely he doesn’t mean what I think he means,  _ Harry thought. 

 

***

 

Louis did mean what Harry thought he did. Just outside the opening to the cave he darted forwards and snatched a trout from a school that was drifting past. His sharp fingernails pierced through its scales with brutal efficiency. Its writhing body stilled after just a moment, a cloud of blood floating out from its wound before it was pulled away by the current. 

Louis turned and grinned at Harry, offering him the trout sort of hopefully. Harry swallowed and tried to smile back. 

Louis frowned and lowered the fish. And, well. If there was something worse than the thought of eating a meal of  _ just _ raw trout, it was seeing Louis disappointed. 

So, Harry swam over to him and grabbed it. He spent a second peeling the skin away from its belly, tried not to gag, then took a huge bite out of it. 

Louis watched with a pleased expression that turned into a laugh when Harry grimaced at the taste. 

“Yum,” Harry mouthed, face still twisted with disgust. 

Louis made to take it back playfully, but Harry flipped his fin and shot backwards with his prize. Now that he’d gotten over it, it wasn’t actually  _ that _ bad. And he hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning, so he couldn’t afford to be fussy. 

Louis poked his tongue out at him then turned as started swimming downwards. Harry followed, pulling the meat from the fish’s bones as he went. 

Louis slowed enough for him to catch up. Harry offered him some fish in thanks, and Louis accepted it with a quick peck to Harry’s cheek. 

It was one of the nicer mornings Harry had ever spent, all things considered. 

After a while, though, he grew tired of swimming. 

Louis noticed him dragging a little and made sure to sing him an encouraging little note. 

_ Nearly there,  _ Harry thought it meant. 

He was right, as it turned out. The area they were in was densely packed with buildings, two stories or three all shoved in next to each other like sardines in a net. Most of them still had furniture inside, all manner of tables and chairs that Harry wished he could spend time exploring. A few of them had technology he didn’t fully recognise—different sizes of screens, mostly. They looked familiar in an abstract kind of way, like something out of a dream. He was staring at one such device when he caught a flash of scales out of the corner of his eye.

He turned to stare at where it had been, but there was only empty water. Louis fastened their fingers together and tugged him forwards, and Harry followed with trepidation. 

A moment later, he saw it again. Bright red and wickedly fast, darting behind buildings, through the top story, then out onto the street. It barrelled right into Louis, sending him backwards and ripping his hand from Harry’s. 

_ Eeeeeeeeiieee– _ Harry’s ears were ringing with that screeching sound, a single joyous note. He took in the sight before him with a bemused smile on his face. There was a mermaid gripping Louis around the waist. She was smaller than him, but not by much; one of the sisters he’d mentioned, no doubt. Louis laughed and squeezed her back, his own happy melody harmonizing with hers. 

He grabbed her by the shoulders and peeled her back gently then turned her to face Harry. He leaned over her shoulder and sang something. She looked between Louis and Harry with something like solemnity in her eyes. 

Harry smiled at her and waved. 

She laughed at him, but waved back in a gently mocking way. 

Harry blushed and tucked some hair behind his ear. 

Louis poked her in the stomach, and she darted away with a giggle. Harry turned to watch her swim down the street and into one of the many houses. She came back out a moment later, five more mermaids in tow. 

Harry stared at them, then beyond them. Now that he was looking for it, he saw flashes of fin all down the street. He counted at least twenty more merfolk scattered around and going about their day, swimming through the ruins of Harry’s species like it was nothing more than a backdrop. 

Louis sang a happy little melody at the sight of his family and rushed towards them. His little sisters and brother met him in the middle, tails a rainbow of scales and skin a sea of cream as they hugged and greeted each other. 

Somehow, despite them all talking over each other, their sounds never grew discordant in Harry’s ears; they blended together like a practiced chorus. Harry felt his dimples carve themselves into his cheeks as he watched Louis and his siblings interact. 

Then, he noticed Louis’ mother. She was hanging back a little, watching the scene before her wistfully. But, there was something heavy underneath her expression. Her gaze snapped over to Harry, and the heaviness took over. 

She sang something—Harry had given up trying to memorise the specific sounds at this point, there was far too many of them—and Louis’ head snapped towards her guiltily. 

He smiled at his siblings them pulled away from their embrace. He sent his mother a mollifying look, then darted back over to Harry. 

Harry was already nodding before had Louis even tried to say anything.

_ Go with her,  _ he mouthed, lifting his head towards Louis’ mum. 

Louis smiled at him softly. He cast a quick look over his shoulder at her, then pressed close to Harry and kissed his cheek. 

Harry smiled. He pushed Louis away gently. 

Louis sent him one last searching look, then in a flash he was gone. He and his mother disappeared back into the house, and Harry was left with six curious faces. 

One of the two littler ones was brave enough to swim towards him. He offered his hand, and she took it with a sharp grin. She turned and started tugging him over to the front garden of the house. It was the impatient tug of a child who wanted to show something off; Harry knew it well. He followed indulgently, vaguely aware of the rest of Louis’ siblings hanging back to watch the interaction. 

The girl let go of Harry’s hand and grabbed something that had been hidden underneath a stone bucket. She turned back to him and thrust the object forwards excitedly. 

Harry leaned closer to study it (trying to ignore the snippets of melody he could hear from the house behind him). It looked like a toy of some kind; a small, plastic submarine with a winding key poking out of its hull. 

Harry reached towards it carefully, casting a questioning look to the girl. She smiled and let him take it, crowding closer as he examined it. 

_ Hhhhhhnnuiiee?  _ She sang. 

Harry nodded, even though he hadn’t a fucking clew what she’d asked. He shot her a quick smile before he pinched the winding key and turned it three rotations. When he let go, however, nothing happened. 

The girl nodded like that was what she’d expected. 

Harry frowned at the little toy and inserted his nail into the join, snapping open the plastic shell to reveal the gears inside. 

_ Ah,  _ he thought as he poked about.  _ It’s missing a piece.  _

He cast his gaze on the ground around them, eyes searching for a hint of the same plastic the rest of the toy was made from. He found nothing, so he turned back to the toy with pursed lips. 

The little girl patted him on the shoulder, and he turned to find her floating near his head. She grinned at him and opened her palm to reveal the missing gear, then pointed at the house with her free hand. 

Harry nodded his thanks and took the gear gently. He slotted it back in to place, giving the key a few experimental twists to see if it worked. Once he was satisfied that it did, he snapped the two parts of the shell back together. 

The little girl gasped happily when he presented the toy back to her with a dramatic flourish. She made a grab for it, chubby fingers struggling to wind the key over too-long nails. She managed it after a minute or so, brow pinched in concentration. 

She stilled after she’d turned the key a few times, holding the toy in place. She looked up at Harry, then over Harry’s shoulder to the rest of her siblings. 

She let go. 

The little submarine took off, gears all working together to churn through the water and send the toy flying. Harry laughed at it whizzed by, and the girl joined in. 

She clapped and danced, then darted after it to do it all over again. 

Harry watched with a smile until a prickling on his neck told him he wasn’t the only one doing so. He turned his head to find Louis and his mother floating in the doorway of the house, leaning against each other familiarly as they watched the little one play. 

Louis’ mother met his eyes. She studied him carefully for a moment, then nodded. 

Harry got the impression he’d just passed a test he hadn’t known he was taking. 

She smiled softly, then nudged Louis. 

Louis looked between them a few times until something settled on his face. He pressed a kiss to his mother’s cheek, then swam over towards Harry. 

_ Come with me,  _ he mouthed. He held out his hand. 

Harry took it. 

A few of Louis’ siblings broke into song—it sounded teasing, that’s all Harry could tell—and Louis snapped something back at them until they giggled and gave up. 

Harry tilted his head to the side, but Louis only rolled his eyes in response. He started swimming away, and Harry was tugged along for the ride. 

He made sure to turn and wave over his shoulder at the little one, though. 

She grinned and waved back, submarine darting past her gleaming gold tail.

 

 

***

 

Louis led them to a big building. It had columns out front, an imposing face, and cracking stairs leading up to heavy wooden doors. The doors were rotting away in parts, glimpses of a pattern beneath the barnacles and moss. 

Louis sent him a look over his shoulder, then pushed them open. Inside was something Harry hadn’t expected at all. Inside was  _ air _ . 

There was some kind of bubble that encapsulated the whole room, stopping the water from flooding it like it had everything else. It all looked distorted from the rippling of the water Harry was seeing it through, but it was definitely air _.  _ Air, and books. Thousands of books—a whole library of them—piled on every single wall going up to the ceiling, and then again on the second floor that was visible from the circular veranda wrapping around the whole space. He craned his neck to see how high they stretched, but found he couldn’t. 

There were other things in there as well, bits and pieces of junk and scrap and  _ technology  _ that Harry’s fingers itched to pull apart and study. 

He looked at Louis urgently, only to find Louis had transformed while Harry’d been taking it all in. 

His tail had been replaced by two human legs, and he met Harry’s eyes as he stepped through the water and into the pocket of air. 

Harry couldn’t look away from Louis’ blue eyes, wobbling a little from the distortion. Louis reached towards him with the hand he wasn’t using to hold Harry’s. He pressed it forwards, through the barrier, and into Harry’s chest. Harry closed his eyes as he felt the change ripple through him. 

It was getting less and less uncomfortable every time he did this. This time, he barely winced as his scales shrunk back inside his skin and his legs carved themselves free. 

He stepped forwards shakily the very instant that he could, stumbling through the water and into the cold air of the library. 

Louis caught him as he dipped forwards, letting go of Harry’s hand to catch him around the waist. 

Harry steadied his hands on Louis’ damp chest, breaths coming out heavily. 

“How is this possible?” he asked, the second he remembered how to make his lips form words. 

Louis smiled coyly. “It’s magic.”

Harry pushed him away. “Louis.”

Louis laughed a little, letting Harry out of his arms. “That’s the truth.”

Harry walked into the centre of the room and spun around, taking in all the books on the shelves. The  _ dry  _ books on the  _ dry  _ shelves. 

“Did you do this?” 

Louis shook his head. “It belongs to my family. Everyone I live with worked on it, worked to save these little pieces of your culture. We’ve been scavenging for twenty years, and some of this stuff has been in here that long.” He ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing it off his forehead in a way that Harry was coming to read as  _ shy.  _ “Maybe there’s something here you can use to help them?”

Harry nodded distantly. Every time he tried to look at the objects in the room, his eyes skittered away and his brain short circuited. He couldn’t make himself believe what he was seeing; it was too much, too much of what he’d always dreamed of, and all at once. 

“Can you—um.” He cleared his throat. “Can you show me?”

Louis frowned. Harry could see the gears turning in his head for a moment, then Louis smiled softly. “Of course.” 

Harry let out a sigh. 

Louis walked over to something— _ something, something, something, from a pile of other somethings— _ and picked it up. 

“This is my favourite thing in here,” he said, waving it towards Harry.  
  
“But it’s so tiny?” Harry asked, making himself walk closer. 

Louis snorted. “Yeah, but it does something really amazing. Listen.” 

He pressed a button on the side of the little plastic rectangle in his hands a few times, then music started playing. Harry’s eyes widened as he recognised the guitar chords he was hearing, and then a voice started singing. 

_ Almost heaven, West Virginia.  _

Harry clasped his hands over his mouth, tears welling up suddenly from the shock. 

Louis panicked for a moment—obviously he hadn’t been expecting Harry to be so distressed—then wrapped an arm around his waist, standing on his tiptoes until their foreheads pressed together. 

_ Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River.  _

“It’s okay, Harry,” Louis whispered. 

_ Life is old there, older than the trees. _

Harry laughed brokenly. He closed his eyes and let himself be held, let this song he’d heard so many times float through his ears as it was meant to be heard. 

_ Younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze.  _

_ “Country roads, take me home _ ,” Louis sang. His voice was so much nicer than the crackly recording on the screen, smooth yet crisp around the edges. It reminded Harry of hours spent tinkering in his workshop, breathing in the tang of rusting metal and soaking in sunshine. “ _ To the place I belong.” _

Harry wiped away the tears that had leaked out and sniffled a little. He pulled away before Louis could sing any more. His heart couldn’t take it. 

Louis watched him go with concern. He clicked off the music, then set the contraption on top of what looked to be a huge fan blade. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. Harry looked down at his naked feet, then at Louis’. 

He blushed. It hadn’t even occurred to him that they’d just been hugging  _ with no clothes on.  _ He’d spent just a few hours without a need for them, and that was enough to forget they existed, apparently. 

“Yeah,” he sniffed, wiping at his face again and willing his blush to go away. Louis didn’t think of it like that, so why should he? “Just… What else is in here?” 

Louis shrugged, face going blank. “You can see for yourself.” 

Harry nodded. He got to work picking through the piles. Most of the things in here he recognised, and a few he didn’t. He ignored those for now—they weren’t likely to be helpful—and instead tried to find a few key things; gas for the burner, solar panels so he could cannibalise some of the circuitry of for whatever the robins had messed up in the course of their nesting, and any components that he could use to increase the generator’s efficiency. Over the course of one afternoon in a library under the sea, he found more than he needed. 

 

***

 

“What kinds of books are there in here?” 

Louis hummed around the clam he was eating. He’d darted out a while ago to fetch them some food—Harry thought it might have had more to do with how bored he’d gotten than how hungry he was—and he was steadily working his way through it all. He offered a clam to Harry, but he shook his head. 

He was elbows deep in a ‘refrigerating unit’, scraping out all of its insides so he could use it to transport everything he needed back up to the surface. It was the only thing he’d found in here that had a seal on it, and he’d managed to make it (mostly) waterproof. 

“All kinds,” Louis answered eventually. He stretched out on his back, letting the empty shell of the clam roll onto the floor. Harry’s eyes slithered down his body before he could stop himself. “Poems, stories, pictures, information. I’ve only read a few; it took me so long to figure out what your little scribbles mean.”

Harry snorted. “I only know how to read because my mother insisted. I was too young to say no at the time, but once I really thought about it I said to her,  _ we only have two books in the entire village, and the rest have pretty much all been destroyed. Why am I doing this, again?”  _

Louis turned to smile at him. “What did she say?”

Harry laughed. “She patted me on the cheek and said,  _ two books is more than none.”  _

Louis leaned his head on his hand, body twisting to face him. He seemed to be waiting for Harry to continue, but all Harry could think to say was, “You’re so beautiful.”

Louis raised his eyebrows. “Like this?”

He didn’t seem offended, at least. 

Harry shook his head. “Like always.” He itched to look away, to turn back to the refrigerator in front of him, but Louis deserved his sincerity. He’d brought him  _ here,  _ he deserved much more than that. 

“So you’re saying,” Louis started, shifting closer with a glint in his eye, “that even when you first saw me—bleeding out, blue scales where you thought my legs should be—that you  _ still  _ found me beautiful.” His tone was teasing, but Harry couldn’t help but notice a note of genuine insecurity underneath. 

He pushed away from the hunk of metal and plastic—he was mostly finished, anyway—and crawled closer to Louis so he could cup his cheek. 

“Yes,” he whispered. 

Louis’ eyes fluttered closed. “Interesting,” he choked, still trying to make a joke out of it. 

Harry didn’t mind. “What about me, hm?” he asked, nudging his nose against Louis’. “Do you think  _ I’m  _ beautiful, even with these ‘silly flesh sticks’?”

Louis’ eyes snapped open. “Of course,” he said, fierce and defensive.

His gaze turned soft once he saw the way Harry was smiling at him (ridiculously fond, most likely). He reached his hand out and placed it on Harry’s thigh, fingers exploring the skin. “Think you look better with a tail, though,” he added. 

Harry’s brain turned to static, the emptiness getting louder and louder the closer Louis’ hand got to his groin. Louis didn’t even seem to realise, was the thing; he was just...touching, pressing his fingers into Harry’s hip bone, scratching softly at his abdomen. 

Harry reached down and grabbed Louis’ hand. His heart rate was racing, breaths coming out in pants, and all of his skin was on fire. He was halfway to hard already, and he  _ really  _ didn’t feel like explaining that to Louis. 

“What is it?” Louis asked, concerned. 

“Nothing, just–” Harry scrambled, squeezing his eyes shut. He remembered this morning, the warmth of the cave. He felt that warm again, despite how cold it was in the library. “I really liked that,” he choked out. 

Louis’ eyes flashed in recognition. “Then why should I stop?”

Harry sighed. “Because you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

Louis ripped his hand free. “Don’t I?” he hissed. 

Harry fishmouthed for a second. “I–um.  _ Do you?”  _

Louis scowled at him. “Yes! I’ve read books!”

Harry stared for a moment, eyes wide with shock. Then, he started laughing. He couldn’t help himself, the giggles just  _ had  _ to escape.  _ I’ve read books. _

Louis struggled to keep up his scowl, but the laughter took him, too. Harry leant his arms against the lip of the refrigerator so he could bury his face in them, body still shaking with it. 

“I’m sorry,” he forced out, hiccupping a little. “Of course you’ve read books–”

“Shut up,” Louis laughed. He settled down after another minute, collapsing on the ground again in a regal sprawl. “I’ll just… tell you what I’m doing next time, yeah?” 

Harry’s laughter died in his throat. He turned his face so he could peak at Louis from behind his curls. “Okay,” he said, a little blank and a lot overwhelmed.  _ Next time, next time, next time.  _

“Okay,” Louis replied. “Now, are you done with this thing yet?” He kicked the refrigerator, then winced at his toe made contact with the metal. 

Harry shook himself off. “Yeah, pretty much. It should all fit inside.”

“Lovely,” Louis said, pushing himself up. “Do you want to go now, or…”

Harry made to stand as well. “Now, please. It’ll be dark by the time we get up there, right?” 

Louis nodded, moving to help Harry pack in all the bits and pieces he’d set aside for the Village. 

“It’ll be easier to sneak in, then,” Harry said, organising everything how he wanted it. 

“Sneak in?” 

Harry looked back up at Louis. “Yes. We didn’t exactly leave on good terms, if you don’t remember.”

Louis made a face at him.  
  
Harry slammed the lid down. He tested the seal, then started tying it shut with some rope he’d found. “Here’s the plan. Step one: climb up one of the columns. Step two: lower the platform down. Step three: bring up the parts. Step four: install everything as quickly as possible without anyone noticing.”

“Step five: profit,” Louis butted in. 

Harry laughed despite himself. “Exactly.” 

Step five was actually to say goodbye to his friends, but he didn’t think Louis wanted to hear that. 

“And where am I in all this?” Louis asked. 

Harry shrugged. “Waiting for me in the sea?” 

Louis parked his hands on his hips. “Sure,” he said, voice full of false optimism. “Because you’re coming back.”

Harry frowned. “I  _ am  _ coming back.” 

“Sure,” Louis repeated, looking away. 

Harry let it go. 

“Here.” He offered one of the ends of rope to Louis, fastening the other around his wrist. “It’ll make pulling it up easier.”

Louis accepted it with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Together, they lifted the refrigerator up and out of the doors. Harry closed his eyes the second they broke the barrier, sea water already stinging at his skin. 

Louis reached over to him and settled his hand on Harry’s shoulder. Harry shuddered, neck craning back as the change overtook him. 

He took a deep breath in and opened his eyes. 

_ Nrrrnniillllll,  _ Louis sang, a twist to his lips. 

_ Nrrrnniillllll,  _ Harry sang back. 

He adjusted his grip on the rope and started swimming. Beside him, Louis did the same. Together, they made for the surface. 

 

***

 

‘Step one: climb up one of the columns’ wasn’t going very well. Harry huffed and heaved, but he’d only managed to make it a few metres up. 

“You can do it, Harry,” Louis said from below in a monotone voice. His encouragements had gotten less and less sincere the longer Harry was taking. “Don’t give up.”    
  
Harry grunted. “I’d like to see you try.”    


“Well, alright,” Louis said. 

Harry looked down to see him tying one last knot, rope now holding the refriderator fast to the column and slightly above the waves. 

“Actually?”

Louis didn’t respond, too busy planting his feet against the column and shimmying upwards. 

“How are you doing that?” Harry asked breathlessly. 

Louis scrambled around Harry’s body then paused, biceps bulging as he held himself up. “I’m lighter than you are,” he said, craning his head around the column so he could smile at Harry. 

Harry pouted. 

Louis barked out a laugh. “Just let me do this, yeah?” 

Harry thunked his head against the column, the patchwork of wood, concrete, and metal digging into his skin. “Alright.”

Louis leaned closer so he could whisper in his ear. “Thank you.” He adjusted his grip then brought one of his hands down to Harry’s chest. He pushed—gently, but insistently—until Harry let go of the column and fell backwards. The air whipped past his body for just a moment before the waves claimed him again. He spat out some water and kept himself afloat, neck craning back to watch Louis monkey-climb up and up and up. 

The moonlight glinted off his bare ass in a way that was at once hilarious and poetically beautiful. Harry groaned and let himself sunk under the surface so he could let the water clear out his mind. 

He only had to wait for a few minutes before he caught sight of the platform lowering down. He swam back over to the refrigerator, untying the knots so he could load it onto the platform. 

“Still think I should stay in the sea?” 

Harry sighed then turned. Louis was standing on the platform, now suspended just a metre above the waves. 

“I think you should do whatever you want,” Harry answered, smiling sweetly. 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Come on, swim it over.”    


“Easy for you to say,” Harry murmured darkly. The refrigerator was fucking heavy with just one person, but somehow he managed. Louis reached down to help him pull it up once Harry was close enough, and together they loaded it onto the platform. 

“So, you’re coming with?” Harry panted, shifting the refrigerator further towards the centre. 

Louis sent him a dry look and started pulling the platform back up. 

Harry laughed and moved to help. 

Once they reached the entrance to the Village, Harry turned to Louis. 

“Thank you for helping, but I think you should stay here,” he said. Louis opened his mouth to argue, but Harry stayed firm. “I’m serious, Louis. It’s dangerous for you.”

Louis crossed his arms. “Everything is dangerous.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a prick. I just want you to be safe.”

Louis shrugged, eyes stormy. “Fine. I’ll stay. But I’m not happy about it.”

Harry cracked a smile. “I didn’t expect you to be.”

He bent down and wrapped the rope around his wrist again, then started tugging the refrigerator towards the door. Once he got it inside, he planned on leaving it in the hallway and taking the bits and pieces he needed out as he went. He had a few hours to do a lot of repairs and installations, all whilst trying to go unnoticed. Easy. 

He sent one last look over his shoulder at Louis. He was leaning against the wall, ankles crossed, head turned up to the moon. 

Harry closed the door. There was lots to be done.

 

 

***

 

Harry wiped some sweat from his brow. He spent a moment basking in the sea breeze, enjoying the sound of the wind shifting the leaves and stems around him.

The rooftop garden was just as he’d left it. So was his workshop, when he took a second to peak inside. 

He debated whether or not he should try and take all of his creations with him. He’d miss them, as well as all of his tools and equipment. But… he didn’t have time.

So, he sent one final glance around the room then closed the door. He adjusted his grip on the bag he had slung over his shoulder. It contained everything he’d need to fix up the solar panel; the last thing he had to do before he left. 

“Hello, little ones,” Harry whispered, treading his way over to the solar panels carefully. “It’s going to be alright.”

Harry heard no chirping as he approached. He knelt down next to where the nest had been, then lowered his head far enough to catch sight of it. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw it, right where he’d left it with three sleeping babies and two sleeping parents inside. He pulled out the first object he needed from his bag then set it aside. Carefully—so carefully, more careful than he’d ever been—Harry reached out towards it and scooped up the nest. The birds woke up as he did, the parents tweeting at him in distress, getting ready to launch themselves at his face. Before they could, though, Harry deposited the nest into the bird house he’d brought for them. 

It was a construction he’d patched together in the library, made from a hollowed out computer—an ancient computer, if he had to guess from its size. The birds settled down in their new home, the three walls protecting them from the wind. 

Harry smiled at them then started rummaging around under the solar panel. He didn’t have much light to work with, but it was thankfully quite easy to spot where the damage was. The birds had partially chewed through one of the wires connecting the generator to the solar panels. Harry pulled some spare wire from his bag and got to work patching it. 

In the end, it was easier to fix the solar panels then it had been to install the gas in the burner and make sure it was working properly, or to install those modifications to the generator. The things Harry had fixed tonight were hardly the only things broken on the Village, but that would have to do for now. 

Harry couldn’t exactly replace the columns, now, could he. 

He made his way down the ladder, then paused. He looked both ways down the corridor. 

Left led to Louis, and to freedom. Right led to the bedrooms.

Harry sighed and started walking right. He had a few people he wanted to say goodbye to, even though it would cause him a lot of pain to do so. 

But, when Harry knocked on Zayn’s door softly, there was no response. He pushed the door open to find it empty, then found the same nothingness in Niall and Liam’s bedrooms. 

He frowned, looking down the corridor. There were a few places they could be at this time of night, and Harry had a pretty good guess as to which one it was. 

He started walking towards the Iron Room. 

“–understand—out of–”

“We—gone—was–”

Harry heard snippets of words as he approached, the voices filtering down the hallway, not quite loud enough to be properly understood. 

He pressed his ear to the door once he was close enough, careful not to make a sound. 

“I know we promised you a miracle, but we lost it. I don’t know what you expect us to do about it.”

That was Ben’s voice; he sounded like he was bricking it. 

“We’re only  _ barely _ self-sufficient; there’s nothing else here that we can offer you instead except seeds from our garden. Would those interest you?” 

That was Liam, ever the negotiator. 

Then, a new voice spoke. It was one Harry didn’t recognise. 

“ _ The Mighty Elizabeth  _ diverted from her course because  _ you  _ promised it would be worth our time. Now, do you think a couple seeds is worth our time? Hm?”

“I understand your ship has more important things to be doing—and can I just say, she’s a beauty—but it’s like I just said. The mermaid we captured escaped last night.”

“Then  _ find it.” _

Harry gulped and backed away from the door. 

This wasn’t going to end, the representative from the ship sounded  _ pissed,  _ and Harry couldn’t just let him people get bullied into submission. 

Without their promised mermaid, they could demand whatever they wanted from the Village; Lord knows they weren’t in a position to refuse. One tiny bump from a ship like that to the columns and Harry’s entire family would be sinking to the bottom of the ocean. 

So, Harry pushed the door open. 

Six heads snapped towards him; Ben, Zayn, Liam, Niall, and the two people from the ship. The taller one was hanging back to watch the debate, a calculating look on her face, whilst the shorter one was right up in Ben’s space. He looked shocked to have been interupted. 

“Um,” Harry said. “Hi.”

“Harry?” 

“Harry!” 

“Hazza!” 

Harry waved to his friends.  

Ben stalked towards him. “You  _ idiot,  _ do you have any idea how bad you’ve made us look? That stunt you pulled–”

Harry walked past him. When he spoke, he addressed the tall one. “What does your ship need?” 

“That’s none of your business!” Snapped Shorty. 

The tall one tilted her head to the side. “Shut up, Lister.” She said. Then, to Harry, “What do you mean?” 

Harry tucked his hands behind his back. “You must have wanted something from our mermaid, to have come all this way for it. A ship like yours, a world like this—that journey was for more than novelty. So,” he smiled patiently. “What does your ship need?” 

She grinned. It looked unnatural on her face, like wings on a worm. “There’s not enough resources left in the world, mate. Every ship we pass is as hungry as the last and as cold as the last. No wood, and no more gas pretty soon; not enough fresh water no matter how much we filter. It’s unsustainable.” She leaned forwards. “Your ‘mermaid’ could’ve been our ticket out. If there’s something that can survive down there, something that’s at least a little bit human, we want in.”

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. He wanted desperately to tell her about the mermaids—that they were real, that they were  _ many,  _ that there was hope—but. It wasn’t his story to tell. 

“I’ll help you.”

Harry’s eyes widened. The woman glanced over his shoulder, as did everyone else in the room. 

Harry took a deep breath before he turned. 

Louis was standing in the doorway, wearing a stolen jumper and trousers from Harry’s room. He was limned by the thin light from the hallway. 

He looked like an angel. 

Hell, maybe he was. 

“What?” the tall one said. 

“Who are you?” asked the short one. 

“ _ You little–”  _ hissed Ben, eyes narrowed to slits. 

“Louis!” Niall exclaimed. 

Louis blinked at the assault of information. 

“Hi, Niall,” he said first, sparing a second to give the boy a smile. He elected to ignore Ben—a wise decision—and instead focused on the tall one. 

“I’m the missing mermaid, and I can save your people.”

She looked impressed. “Am I supposed to believe you? Just like that?” 

Louis took a step forwards, then—lightning fast—grabbed Ben around the neck. He opened his mouth to protest, but then he started shaking. His eyes rolled back in his head, and Harry winced. Louis’ face gave away no expression as he let Ben collapse to the floor. His thin trousers burst at the seams, a dark grey tail emerging from where his legs once were. 

“What the fuck,” he said dazedly, trying to push himself onto his elbows as he stared at the scaly appendage in horror. Then, he passed out. 

His head thunked loudly against the floor, but no one moved to help him. 

The short one looked aghast, but the tall one. She  _ smiled.  _

“How long does it last?” 

Louis shrugged. “As long as I want it to. And I can do it to everyone on your ship, on one condition.” 

She leaned forwards, a glint in her eye. “Name it, love.”

Louis gestured around the room. “You leave these people alone.”

“Deal,” she said, sticking her hand out an instant after Louis had said his last word. 

Louis blinked, then stared at her hand. Recognition flashed across his face, and he sent Harry a quick smile before he placed his hand in hers and shook it. 

“I’ll give you three days to pack up your ship and get ready, then I’ll meet you in the water off the starboard side.”

The tall one narrowed her eyes. Harry saw her fingers tighten around Louis’ for a moment. 

“Fine, but I’ll want something of yours to make sure you carry your end of the bargain. How about him?” She pointed to Ben. 

Louis’ lips lifted, then a smirk bloomed across his face. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll even leave him like this for you, so you can show all your little friends.”    


She laughed—an obnoxious, bird-like noise. “I like you.” 

Louis finally pulled his hand from the handshake. “Sorry,” he sassed. “I’m taken.”

“A pity,” she said, but it sounded more like a platitude than anything else. “Well, I’ll see you in three days. Lister! Bring the man.”

Lister snapped to attention. He hoisted Ben’s unconscious body over his shoulders then followed her from the room. 

“So, are we just going to let them have Ben then?” Liam asked, frowning. 

“I’m actually fine with it,” Harry said. 

“Me, too,” Zayn agreed. 

Niall nodded, then pounced on Harry. “You cunt! You scared us so much, jumping from the Village like that. Gave me a premature heart attack and a bloody grey hair. Look!” He shoved his hair in Harry’s face. 

Harry laughed but hugged him back, careful to avoid choking on his hair. 

“I’m sorry, Nialler. I came back to fix things.”    


Zayn scratched his cheek, looking between Harry and Louis. “Metaphorically or literally?”    


Harry met his eyes over Niall’s shoulder. “Both.” He pulled back from the hug so he could move to stand next to Louis and take his hand. He admired as he did how matching they were, both clothed in Harry’s comfiest selection. “I made a few repairs earlier, so you guys shouldn’t have to worry about the generator clunking out anytime soon, but. I also wanted to say goodbye.” Louis turned his head sharply to stare at him, and Harry tightened their fingers together. “I’m going with Louis, I’m. I’m leaving.”

No one looked particularly surprised except Louis, who was ironically the only one who  _ shouldn’t  _ have been surprised. 

“Really?” he whispered, getting on his tiptoes in his excitement. “Actually?”    
  
“Yes!” Harry laughed. “You’ve got a whole library down there and more than enough things for me to tinker with.” 

“Oh,” Louis said, light dimming a little. “Yes, you can have all of it.” 

Harry leaned closer, thumb brushing over the back of Louis’ hand. “And also,” he said, “I’d rather like to spend the rest of my life with you. Romantically. Is that okay?” 

The stars in Louis’ eyes were back in full force, brighter than any Harry had ever seen in the sky. They put the sun itself to shame. “Yes. Of course. Me, too.” 

Harry beamed.   


“Awww,” Niall interrupted, pretending to wipe a tear from his cheek. “This is so sweet. Isn’t is so sweet, boys?” 

Liam slung an arm around Niall’s waist, and Zayn leant his elbow on his shoulder. 

“It’s very sweet,” Liam agreed. “I’m actually getting a little jealous.”    
  
Zayn raised his hand. “You know, this gives me an idea. Niall? Liam?” 

The looked at him with the same smiles on their faces—the smiles of three little shits who knew exactly what they were doing. 

“Would you give up everything we’ve ever known for me?”    
  
“Of course, Z!” Liam replied. “And where should we do that?” 

“I know!” Niall interrupted. “Under the sea!”   


They all turned to Louis and Harry, deadpan looks on their faces. 

“Are you serious.” Harry leant his weight on Louis so he could spend all his energy being mad at his friends (and happy at his friends, and  _ ecstatic  _ at his friends). 

“Harry, did you honestly think we’d let you go without us?” Niall said pityingly. 

“I’ve been packed for days,” added Zayn. 

“You guys are the worst,” Harry moaned, unable to keep the grin off his face. 

“So, whaddya say, Louis?” Liam asked. “Room enough for four stinky humans down there?” 

Louis looked between them all, eyes twinkling away. “Yeah, I reckon so,” he said. 

Niall cheered. 

Harry pulled Louis closer and hid his smile in Louis’ still-wet hair.

_ I love you,  _ he didn’t say. 

But it was there, anyway. 

 

***

_ Two Months Later. _

  
  


“It’s happening soon, right? I can never tell what time it is down here,” Liam mused, flipping his tail—a lovely burnt umber colour—through the water as he tried to keep up with Harry. 

“Yeah, should be soon,” Harry said. “Louis just got back I think, so they’ll be staring it any minute.” 

Liam nodded. “I’ll meet you there, then?” 

Harry waved then sped off.

He found Louis outside the library, relaxing on the steps. He had his legs stretched out, the gills on his chest rippling as he breathed. 

Harry swum right up to him at full speed and caught him around the shoulders, sweeping him off his feet. 

Louis grinned and made a happy trilling noise—a noise Harry could now (mostly) translate. “Hi, baby.” 

The term of endearment Louis used for Harry was always the same, but Harry liked to imagine it was something different every time. There were a lot of things that Louis’ language had over English, but synonyms weren’t one of them. It was part of the reason Harry and his friends had managed to pick it up so quickly. That, and they had a good teacher. 

Said teacher was clinging to Harry as he kept them afloat above the steps. He wrapped his arms around his shoulders and his legs around Harry’s waist. The smooth skin of his thighs felt lovely against Harry’s stomach as the tip of his tail. 

Harry rubbed his nose against Louis’, then pulled back. 

“Everything went alright up there?” 

Louis smiled and nodded. “Yes. I even spoke to Kat, from the Island? She’ll consider our proposal, just like you said. Everyone else is doing well; said they missed you, though.”  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. “I saw them yesterday. They’re so dramatic.”

Louis threaded his fingers through Harry’s hair. “I know. But come on, swim me inside. I’ve got a— _ eannnaaa _ —for you.”

Harry frowned. He copied the noise questioningly as he swam. 

Louis was a little too busy clinging on to answer.

Harry only had to wait another moment to get it, though. The second he pushed the doors open and looked through, his breath caught in his chest. 

Louis untangled himself from Harry and stepped backwards through the water and into the air of the library. “Surprise!” he said with a grin, words a little muffled in Harry’s ears.

Harry had to hold on to the doorframe so he wouldn’t float away, because behind Louis, filling up the space on the main floor of the library—sitting where nothing had been since Harry organised it all three weeks ago—was his  _ stuff.  _

His art, his creations, his half-finished garbage; his tools, his equipment, his spare parts; his  _ bed,  _ his chest of drawers, his father’s compass; all of it. 

Harry pushed himself through the water and barrelled into Louis, sending them both plummeting to the ground. His arms around Louis’ neck stopped his head from cracking open on the wooden floor, but the wind was knocked out of him as Harry pressed a dozen small kisses to his face. 

“Alright, darling, just,” he panted, wriggling until his hand was pressed against Harry’s damp back. Harry shivered as his gills and tail faded away—they were beginning to feel more and more natural with every passing day—then took a deep breath of Louis’ hair. He pressed another kiss to Louis’ ear for good measure. 

“Thank you,” he said reverently. He pulled back to stare between Louis eyes. “I don’t know how you did it, but thank you.” 

Louis shrugged demurely, and the movement jostled their bodies against each other. As familiar as they’d become with each other’s naked bodies,  _ this  _ still never got old. 

Harry smirked and pressed closer. Louis went a little cross eyed, then closed his eyes altogether. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, baby,” Louis mumbled. 

Harry made a mournful sound. “Who says I can’t finish?” 

Louis sighed. “The ceremony says. It’s starting now.”

“Shit!” Harry cursed, jumping up. “I almost forgot.” 

Louis pushed himself up as well. “We have time for one more thing.” 

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?” 

Louis nodded. “Yeah.” He grabbed Harry’s hands and held them between his own softly, then looked up at him from under his eyelashes. 

“Unfair,” Harry murmured.

Louis ignored him. “Harry Styles,” he said. “It’s the custom of your people to present a symbol of wealth and love when requesting commitment.” 

“Is that what you’re doing, baby?” 

“Stop interrupting!” Louis hissed, and Harry shut his mouth. “This is my gift. I would like to ask a question.” 

Harry squeezed his hands. 

Louis licked his lips; a nervous tick Harry recognised. “Will you commit to me?”

Harry took a deep breath, savouring the moment. His love in front of him, his past behind him but close enough to touch, and the world waiting outside; what more could he ever want. Harry dropped Louis’ hands so he could wrap them around his waist and pull him close, their cold, clammy skin sticking together like too-wet dough. “Yes,” he said, right up against Louis’ lips. “And I love you.” 

Louis made that low rumbling noise that he  _ refused  _ to admit was a purr. 

Harry kissed him once, sofly. “Will you commit to me?” 

Louis kissed him back, then grinned. “Yes,” he replied. “And… I’m going to beat you there!” 

He pulled out of Harry’s embrace and sprinted towards the door. 

Harry cackled and ran after him, his longer legs providing a much-needed advantage. He made a grab for Louis just as he jumped through the doorway. 

Louis reached out and met him halfway, linking their hands together in the water for long enough to set Harry’s tail and gills free. “I love you, too,” he sang. 

Together they swam—passed the empty houses and streets and towards the town hall. As they approached, they passed other merpeople swimming towards the same place. 

Harry sung a happy note in greeting at everyone they passed, and almost everyone sung one back. Harry had quickly become a favourite amongst Louis’ family—a fact that Harry was more than eager to brag about. 

“Welcome, welcome!” 

Harry turned his attention to the elder. Harry was yet to learn her name, but she’d been instrumental in acclimating Harry and his friends into life under the sea. 

Louis pulled him towards where his mother and siblings were gathered, navigating them both through the growing crowd with ease. Harry bumped into more than a few people trying to follow his lead, but all he got were smiles and laughs.

“Before we begin, let us say farewell to our friend from  _ The Mighty Elizabeth. _ ” A merman swam above the crowd to wave, and everyone gathered waved back. Harry caught Lister’s eyes as he scanned the crowd, and the two shared a solemn nod. He’d came to tell them that all the humans-turned-merfolk from the ship were setting off in a week’s time to travel the world, perhaps find a new home. Harry wished them nothing but luck. 

The Elder made a trilling noise, and everyone’s attention snapped back to her. “Now, I would like to introduce the newest member of our family. Sarah! Come here, child,” the elder turned to smile over her shoulder into the town hall behind her.  

Harry craned his neck, but he couldn’t quite see behind a falling lamppost in the way. A moment later Sarah appeared, a shy smile on her face and a brand new, bright yellow tail where her legs had once been. 

With Sarah’s initiation into Louis’ family, that made ten of Harry’s people who had joined him beneath the waves. 

Eventually, they would all be down here. On their own time, of course, but… Without Harry there to keep the columns reinforced, their time was getting shorter and shorter. 

He pushed the thought from his mind, instead choosing to focus on something happy. 

Right now, it was Sarah’s face as the elder placed a wreath of seashells around her neck. 

Music floated through the water; every merperson gathered was singing a haunting melody. The music might have been language once, but Harry couldn’t decipher its meaning. What he could do, however, was join in. 

His voice—deeper than Louis', but equally clear—melded into the chorus, dozens of harmonies flowing together to produce a cacophony of sound. It sounded ancient, much older than any human music he’d heard. 

It sounded like  _ home. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated and loved and hoarded and stroked gently at night. Fic post can be found [here](https://graceling-in-a-suit.tumblr.com/post/185248273010/still-deep-in-us-41k-t-by-gracelinginasuit).


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